Cat and Mouse
by coldqueen
Summary: A year after the Centre is destroyed Jarod finds himself in a unique position.  Miss Parker is hiding from him and someone else, and he wants to know why.  Multichapter story focusing around them as a couple.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Cat and Mouse

**Genre:** Television

**Series:** The Pretender

**Characters:** Miss Parker, Jarod, etc.

**Rating:** PG

**Spoilers:** Everything up to and after _Island of the Haunted_

**Summary:** Multi-chapter story of what might happen if Miss Parker and Jarod found their roles reversed. The Centre is gone, the Triumvirate as well, yet things between Miss Parker and Jarod remain unresolved.

**Author's Note: **In all reality this should be set in 2002, a year after the last T.V. movie. However, since I'm bad at recessing a story back even a few years...let's pretend the last movie was a year ago and that this is taking place now.

* * *

**Prologue**

_St. Louis, Missouri_

She was hundreds of miles from any Centre outpost, and closer to a thousand miles from anyone she knew and might've loved, yet she still didn't feel safe. Her eyes darted to and fro in the shadows of the street, the orange light from overhead making every subtle movement seem sinister. The wind tossed her long ebony hair into her face hard enough to have her wincing from the sting.

She'd been in the city for only a week, hiding out in the posh Renaissance Hotel located in the middle of downtown. Unlike Jarod she wasn't going to create lairs in abandoned warehouses and dilapidated buildings. If she was going to hide from the world she'd do it in a way befitting a queen.

Maybe it was that arrogance that kept her going. Maybe it was unwillingness to compromise. The Centre was gone, destroyed by Jarod months ago. The Triumvirate had fallen with it, taken down by agents of the C.I.A. and several other nations' security outfits.

After her father's death and continued manipulations by the Centre, she hadn't been sad to see the place go. As long as she and her friends were safe, as far as she was concerned the place could burn to the ground and she'd dance on the ashes. A smile twisted her lips, cruel and sardonic and almost identical to one that might have graced her lips a year ago. Her eyes were still icy blue, with hints of steel sneaking through. The only true difference between her face of now and her face then was color.

A year ago her burgundy lipstick and pale skin contrasted drastically, only adding to the regal image she tried to project. Her sharp suits, fitted and flattering, were also used to project that image. Eight months ago, on the heels of news that the Centre was being investigated by high-ranking officials, she'd made the decision to change.

She'd change the way she acted. She'd change the way she looked.

She was wearing jeans, and knee-high boots, both worn often enough to be made soft. The boots were a creamy shade of white that matched the coat she wore. They didn't even have heels on them, but were flat-soled. She mused that it was the better to run away with.

Her hair was longer, as well, though still the same dark shade it'd always been. It framed a face made tan by long days driving in her convertible. Instead of dark lips, a natural pink blossomed, blood darkening them to rose as she nibbled on them in the cold.

Maybe change isn't really the correct word to describe the transformation she was undergoing. For so long she'd based who she was on the people around her, the people she loved, and the people who loved her. Her parents, her friends, and her enemies, she'd strived to be what was expected of her and to do what they wanted. For the first time since her mother had died, she was trying to become herself. She wanted to be liked by others. She wanted to like herself.

The wind chill had to be in the negative degrees and she pulled her trench-coat tighter as she hurried for the hotel door. It was drizzling so the doorman was waiting just inside and he opened the door as soon as he caught sight of her. She rushed in with a grateful smile, pausing just inside the door to shake some of the water off her clothing.

"Good evening, Miss Parker. Got caught in the rain, did you?"

The old Miss Parker would surely have retorted sarcastically, if not bitingly. She bit back that instinctive reaction and instead smiled softly. "Yes. Rather cold out."

"If you're thinking of staying in town much longer you might want to get a thicker coat. We're supposed to have some snow coming in," the doorman said jovially. He had a Midwestern accent, that is to say, what little accent people in this region had. She found herself softening the sharp way she enunciated her consonants, almost mimicking the way his stranger spoke.

That thought made her soft smile become a broad one as a streak of humor surfaced inside her. Mimicking his accent was most likely her "Pretender" gene surfacing. If she kept this up much longer she'd start collecting Pez dispensers and would become irrationally fond of sugary treats.

"I'm afraid I'm leaving tonight, James," Miss Parker replied as she slid out of her jacket. James held the shoulders of her coat to aid her and when she turned back to him he laid it across her arm.

"I think I might miss seeing your beautiful face, Miss Parker. You certainly made my day a little bit brighter."

Despite the fact that he was thirty years older than she was, and married to boot, the compliment made her blush. She'd been hit on by all kinds, but the warm sincerity she felt from this man struck her in a way no other had.

She ducked her head to hide the blush and nodded slowly. "I might miss this, as well."

She made her way to the elevator, her mind miles ahead of her, choosing her next destination. She turned to look out the rapidly closing doors and paused in her mental ruminations.

His compliment had struck her so because no one ever really spoke to her in that tone. Her family was treacherous at best, her friends feared her as much as they feared her family. Even Sydney had a healthy amount of emotional distance from her, despite how much he cared for her.

Parker closed her eyes tightly at the thought of her old friend, her hand flying to her stomach as if she could feel her loneliness echoing in there. She hadn't spoken to him in seven months. She hadn't spoken to Broots in eight.

Her room was on the ninth floor, high enough for her to see over a number of the buildings on neighboring blocks. She let herself in and placed her purse and jacket on the desk. Without breaking momentum she picked up the cell phone laying there and moved to the large window. She didn't even have to glance at the phone to dial the number she had in mind.

It didn't even get a full ring in before he picked up.

He always knew when she would call.

"Hey there, Parker."

"Hello, Ethan."

"How's St. Louis?"

"I'd ask how you knew but I already know."

"I always know where you're at."

The tone in his voice had a smirk twisting the corner of her lips. "You sound worried."

"I always worry about you. You're my sister."

"Yeah," she said quietly, nodding her head idly. She wanted, desperately, to ask him things, to ask him about Jarod, about his family. She knew Ethan was staying with them, had been staying with them for months now at their home in California. She knew if she asked he'd answer, without question.

"Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"The one thing I can't figure out..."

"Is what?"

"When are you going to stop hiding?"

She smiled and pressed cold fingers against a colder window. The drizzle had turned to snow as she watched and slowly the ground below her became covered in the pure white substance. "If I knew that, you'd know that."

Through the line she heard the sound of a door opening and a man's voice calling out. Immediately she froze, her attention riveted on what she could hear. Her breath rushed from her lungs as her mouth became suddenly dry.

"My inner sense is telling me-"

"I have to go," she said quickly, before he could say something that might give her identity away or maybe tell her something that might change her current agenda. She snapped the phone shut and stood there watching the snow.

She felt cold inside.

* * *

_Visalia, California_

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!"

There was no greater pleasure in the world than in being able to say those words to the people to whom the names rightfully belonged.

Clearly his parents were not home, Jarod noted as he slipped into the large home. The house was mostly dark except for the living room where Ethan could be clearly seen. It wasn't a particularly smart tactical move, only one room in the house lit and the sole occupant highly visible. If they were still being hunted, this was the kind of situation the Centre would have loved.

The Centre was dead and buried, however, and Jarod couldn't be happier.

No, that wasn't entirely true.

He could be happier.

He had his truth, he had his family, he had an identity. He had a _life_.

He still felt alone.

Ignoring the pang of pain, Jarod forced a smile onto his face and moved to join his half-brother. The walls were covered with family photos, a few from almost twenty years ago, but most from the last year or so. His sister, his mother, his father, Ethan, his clone, and even several pictures taken at Kyle's grave. Jarod's eyes ran over them fondly before shifting back to his brother.

"My inner sense is telling me that you're in-" Ethan cut off his sentence and swore, a rare event in and of itself. The worry on his face had Jarod's senses going on high alert. Ethan shut off the phone and threw it on the couch, turning to Jarod and running tense hands through his hair. "Hey, Jar'."

"What's wrong?"

Ethan shook his head and sighed. He wanted to tell his brother, he really did, but he knew Miss Parker would not appreciate it or his concern. Her own Inner Sense had to motivating her, at least somewhat, even if she wasn't actively listening. She did keep moving, after all. On some level she felt the danger and instinctively sought to avoid it. Miss Parker was more in tune with her Inner Sense than she knew.

"Ethan, don't lie to me," Jarod was using his "serious" voice which was never really a good sign.

"It's not my story to tell," Ethan replied, moving past his older brother with ease. An idea sparked somewhere in his brain, and became fueled by his inner workings. Ethan paused at the door, turning back to look at his brother and letting his worry cross his face for a second. He was sure that Jarod had seen. "Are you hungry? I can make some sandwiches."

Jarod force his agitation off of his face and smiled at Ethan. "Yeah, that sounds great."

He waited until Ethan was down the hall and making noise in the kitchen before reaching for the cell phone on the couch. He worked quickly, opening up the menu and heading for "Last Calls" in seconds. The name that popped up, and continued to appear further down the list, had his teeth grinding and his fingers clenching. He set down his brother's phone before he accidentally destroyed it.

Miss Parker had called today and had called several times in the past few weeks.

Ethan had said nothing to him.

Jarod sat down heavily in one of the living room chairs and pressed his face into his hands, struggling to think over the sudden roaring in his head. The sound of her voice had echoed through his dreams for months, her scent lingering long after he'd woken.

He hadn't seen her since their encounter on the Island of Carthis, about a year ago. He'd forced himself to stay away, for her sake and his, the entire time he'd plotted the Centre's downfall. He'd thought that after all was said and finished, she would be free of her family's influence and he, as well. He'd thought a lot of things.

Sydney was working at a think tank in upper New York, and called Jarod regularly. Though Major Charles wasn't as comfortable with Sydney as Jarod would like, he did accept the older man's place in Jarod's life. An uneasy truce between everyone had eventually become somewhat comfortable in a way that meant everyone could live with the things that happened to and around them these past years.

Jarod had even spoken to Broots not too long ago, fascinated to discover that the awkward man had married a rather beautiful woman and was living happily in Pennsylvania, working as a computer programmer.

He hadn't spoken to Miss Parker, not once, and neither had anyone else, to his knowledge. It now appeared that wasn't true, though, and Jarod couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. Ethan, above anyone else, had to know how Jarod felt about Miss Parker. Adversarial, confrontational, even irrational, their relationship remained at the core a caring one.

At first, with the Centre gone, he'd given them time. Himself time to adjust to this new freedom and to having his family completely together. Herself time to extract herself from the mentality the Centre perpetuated, and to fully realize her own freedom. He'd never expected her to disappear. Unlike he always had, she didn't even leave a trail for him to follow.

When Ethan rematerialized in the doorway, a plate of sandwiches in hand, he didn't look surprised to find Jarod so angry looking. "Bologna or ham?"

"Where is she?"

"I've also got turkey," Ethan replied, pretending obliviousness. As he would tell Miss Parker when she surely called to yell at him, he didn't tell Jarod anything. What Jarod figured out on his own was another thing entirely.

"Is she in trouble?"

Ethan didn't speak, instead picking up one of the sandwiches to hand to Jarod, staring at him intently as he did so.

Jarod accepted the sandwich and held it limply for a moment, his brain working computer-fast to try and figure out what Ethan was trying to tell him. Finally, it clicked for him. He bit into the bologna sandwich with a cheeky grin and arched a brow in amusement. He swallowed his first bite, and asked softly. "Do you know where she is?"

Again, Ethan didn't say anything.

"Do you know when she might call again?"

"Do you have enough mustard on yours? I like a lot of mustard."

If Ethan spoke then the answer was no. If he remained silent the answer was yes.

"Is she nearby?"

"It's too bad we're out of chips."

"Is she in California?"

"They go really well with sandwiches."

"Is she on the West Coast?"

"Jonathon ate them all when he and Emily had that Monster Movie-fest the other night."

Jarod continued to eat as he asked his questions, trying to act as nonchalant as Ethan acted. He didn't know why they pretended to be calm where neither was, but he would play along if Ethan wanted.

"The Mid-west?"

Again, silence.

"Is she stationary?"

"I should have grabbed a bologna sandwich; I'm not very fond of ham."

The front door opened with a homey squeal and the conversation was finished. Ethan stood to great the Major and his wife, technically his stepmother though he was treated as a biological child. Jarod finished his sandwich and idly rubbed at the headache forming under his right eye.

The low comforting murmurs of pleasantries drifted in from the foyer and restlessly Jarod began to pace.

Miss Parker had chased him for almost five years, dogging his every step.

It appeared that it was now time for him to chase her.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Two Months Later_

_Los Angeles, California_

Miss Parker didn't know why she'd chosen to come to California, but knew only that something here had called to her.

She'd been standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, marveling at the color that lived and seemed to echo through the large space beneath her when the powerful urge to see the ocean came to her. She knew that Ethan was in California, and by extension Jarod, but this instinctive yearning for the smell of salt in the air and the feel of sand beneath her feet was too powerful to resist.

With no further thought she'd abandoned her contemplation of the desolate landscape and slid into her convertible and aimed it towards the coast. She wouldn't rush herself, not anymore. She'd spent a good chunk of her life rushing around, chasing after one goal or another. She didn't want to fall into that trap again, even if it was by her own will.

She didn't follow the speed limit, loving the feel of her car strumming with energy under her hands, but she still managed to stretch out the driving to three days. Three days where most of the time it was just her and the road. Long expanses of flat land stretching around her, horizons that blurred between red, yellow, and blue until the only thing she could see was a long ribbon of steaming black concrete stretching into forever. It was a nice feeling, being alone. Her entire life Miss Parker had always known that _someone _was watching. It was the way of the Centre.

For the first time in her life she was well and truly alone.

Again, it was a nice feeling.

She was heading to the City of Lost Angels, and no, the irony was not lost on her.

Parker was smiling when she got off Interstate 10 in Santa Monica, a bright place full of energy. It was one of the last places gloomy old Miss Parker would have gone to, if only because the sun beat down hard enough to make suits feel oppressive.

She wasn't wearing a suit and hadn't even owned one since she'd left Blue Cove nine months ago. When she pulled over by some random beach on some random road, she was wearing shorts, high cut jean shorts like she'd never been allowed to wear in her teenage years. She didn't notice the appreciative looks men more ten years her junior sent her way as they waxed their surfboards. She didn't even notice the appreciative way several scantily clad women sent her way.

All Miss Parker saw was the ocean, stretching out before her. She walked past the crying babies, the burnt bimbos, and the posturing Adonises, stopping only inches from where the water licked at the sand. She pulled off the large Gucci-style sunglasses she wore and squinted into the blazing sunlight. People frolicked in the water, their laughter and joy overshadowing any problems they may have had.

Looking at the deep blue water that stretched out forever reminded her of her former home on the opposite coast, the same in so many ways yet different in a core way. This water before her was warm, if not in temperature, then in nature. Jumping into this water would be like returning to the womb, Mother Nature embracing her and making her pure of all her sins.

In Blue Cove the water was cold and had always seemed to be more an abyss waiting for her to fuck up so it could suck her down. The water was so dark that is was almost black, and the rocks on the shore rising out of the water almost the same color but lacking the slick shine of the water. As a child she'd been terrified of the water; as an adult she'd been wary.

Without realizing what she was doing Miss Parker toed off her sneakers and started into the water. It was cold, bitingly so after standing the direct sun for so long. It startled her but she appreciated it.

Without a broad smile that lit up her face she dived in, immersing herself in the aquamarine water with a silent laugh. She waded out quickly, going deeper and deeper until her chest felt like it would burst from lack of air.

When Parker reached the surface she was blinded by the sun but she forced her eyes open anyways. Everything was blurry that she saw but she realized a few things with alarming clarity.

She liked to be alone, but yearned for connections to others.

In some unconscious way she'd spent the past ten months running around this country trying to absolve herself of her sin, imagined or not.

Someone was watching her.

She floated in the water, her eyes scanning the man where he was badly hidden among the beach crowds. He was blond, well-built, and badly hidden because he was wearing a suit.

A dark and depressing suit that didn't hide the bulge of the gun in a shoulder holster.

Suddenly the joy she'd felt at being in the water drained away. She felt like the old Parker, paranoid and angry at the world. Her palm and fingers itched for the rough pattern of her gun and she cursed the fit of obliviousness that had caused her to forget her gun in the car. Of course, if she'd had her gun it'd be wet now and of little use to her; you can't fire a gun if the gun powder is wet.

Finally, she made her decision. No matter what "company" the man might be from he wouldn't make a move on her in public, especially not if she'd made a clear spectacle of herself.

Given that Miss Parker was wearing a white t-shirt, she'd definitely be making a spectacle of herself.

She began to wade through the water, her eyes on the man trying valiantly to hide in a place where there were no shadows. The shallower the water got the more attention she began to receive, though she had been receiving a fair bit of attention in the first place. Miss Parker wasn't a prude but she wasn't an exhibitionist and she felt the heat of blush sliding up her neck to her face. She was wearing a bra underneath the shirt but under the eyes of her watchers it felt like nothing.

With the ease of meeting an old friend Parker pulled on her mask, the cool blank face she'd worn for years at the Centre. Her eyes remained locked on her watcher, staring straight through him in an intimidation tactic that made most men quell. The blond goon was definitely part of the majority.

Parker knelt as she walked to pick up her sneakers and continued toward her car, and by extension, past the stranger. Several men made clear their appreciation, but the same look that had the stranger crossing his arms (and placing his hand too close to his gun for comfort) had them staying away.

When she was within a few feet of the man with the gun she stopped. Despite her dress she looked unbearably regal as she stood in the sand, water dripping down her skin and landing with soft sounds in the white sand. "If you pull that gun on me here, you won't live to regret it. Understand?"

The calm authority in her voice had the man stunned in place. He was clearly used to being given orders and was also just as clearly on his own here. If he'd had a team with him he'd never have hesitated to try and take her as he did. He paused in his confusion of the situation just long enough for Miss Parker to walk to her car and pull her gun out of the glove box.

She pointed at him, heedless to the gasping of those watching and the sudden movement of people away from them. "Now you want to play, little boy?" She waited while the blond slowly put his hands out, clearly unarmed. She reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun, keeping her own pointed at him as he did so. "Who do you work for?"

He didn't reply.

"Don't want to tell me?" She nodded in sync with him. "Fine, you don't have to." She hit him across the temple with the butt of her gun and sent him careening headfirst into the sand. While he remained semi-conscious she stood over him and leaned down to whisper. "Next time your bosses, whoever they might be, send someone after me, tell them to send a grown-up."

With her stalker unconscious and the immediate area deserted there was no opposition when Miss Parker slid into the driver's seat of her car and left the scene. She kept the stranger's gun with her, however. She'd throw it off a cliff later.

* * *

Jarod was a genius, a prodigy from childhood capable of feats that no one else on this Earth could do, at least not as quickly as he could. Over the years he'd gotten used to this advantage, to being smarter than all those around him. He was used to things coming to him, if not easily, then at least within expectations. 

He hadn't expected Miss Parker to elude him for this long. She'd well and truly disappeared into the ether and nothing he could think of could bring her to the light.

Ethan couldn't, or wouldn't, give him the specifics of what she was doing and where. Any links she had with her past had been severed at various times, all within a month. First with Broots, ten months ago when he'd moved away from Blue Cove; a phone call with him had confirmed that for Jarod. It wasn't as if Broots was a very capable liar, even over the phone.

Less than a month later Parker had exchanged her last call with Sidney, as well. Sid wouldn't reveal much but just enough to make sure that Jarod knew that Parker had left of her own free will. It wasn't a comfort to Jarod, however, to know that, because the fact remained that even for a Pretender his childhood friend was remaining out of reach.

The longer this search of his went on the more it began to affect him. In the beginning, though worried, it hadn't been a high priority. Between setting up his new life and getting to know his family, he'd used his spare time to look for Miss Parker. He'd started with internet searches and calls to her few friends. Within a month of that, however, it became clear that it was leading nowhere.

That's when the search became more detailed and by extension, began to take more time. For normal people the instinctive need to run and hide could be easily predictable. Miss Parker was neither normal nor predictable because of a combination of her past and her abilities. She was as intelligent as he was and as capable of becoming whoever she wanted to be when she wanted to be.

Clearly right now she didn't want to be found, which was just too damn bad for her because Jarod was going to find her.

It wasn't so much just a matter of concern anymore. Now she'd gotten his ego involved. It was an affront to Jarod that anything proved to be a problem to him for this long. Again, he'd gotten used to being in control of the situation, of knowing the next move in the game.

His bedroom door creaked behind him but he didn't turn. His fingers were flying over the keyboard as he scanned through police records across the country searching for any description matching Parker's, and sorting through the numerous ones that came up on the reports.

"Jarod?"

Jarod paused in mid-type to glance over his shoulder. "Yeah, Mom?"

"You worked through dinner again," she explained with a soft smile, placing a plate of food on one of the few clear spots on his desk. The many lines on her face from years of running from the Centre had eased in the last year, returning to her some of the glow and beauty of her youth. Shadows still haunted her eyes, however, and sometimes Jarod was willing to do anything to make them go away.

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly, "guess I got caught up again."

His mother ran a small hand through his hair, thick and standing up straight from his own hands tugging at it over the past few hours. "Still no sign of her?"

Jarod knew his mother's opinion on this subject, as well as everyone else's in the family. His relatives were strong people, and their opinions matched that. Some of them understand his need to find Miss Parker, some didn't. The arguments had already been said and dismissed. They couldn't stop him from doing this, but could only trust that he knew what he was doing.

Thankfully, his mother was one of the few that understood his need. She'd known Catherine Parker, after all.

"No. She's not showing up on any of the databases I've searched, but I didn't think she would. Most likely she's staying off the radar. Ethan says she's moving around, but if she is she's staying out of trouble, which is very un-Parker-like."

"Maybe," his mother started softly as she took a small step back from him so that he would look her in the face, "you should leave her be. She doesn't want to be found."

Jarod pushed away from the desk and stood, pacing to the window and back. "It's not about what she wants, it's about helping her. Ethan says she's in danger and doesn't realize it. I can't just go on with my life not knowing whether she's okay or not."

"Because you're connected?"

"Yes, because we're connected. Parker..." Jarod shook his head and sat down heavily in his chair. "She was my first friend. My first love. My first kiss. Parker was my first everything."

His mother's cool hands lifted his head and she brushed a kiss across his brow. "Maybe you're trying too hard. I'm not saying stop searching, Jarod," she explained before he could speak again. "I'm saying you're eating yourself up with this. You can't do her any good if you're exhausted."

With another kiss, she was gone and Jarod was left facing the facts.

Maybe he was trying too hard.

With a few clicks of the mouse the search could continue without him for a few hours. Though the food on his plate smelled great, he had no appetite at the moment, so he moved to the bed to lie down. In his head, all the things he'd learned continued to pass through his mind.

Sydney telling him what he thought Parker might be going through...

_"She's moving into the world without the Centre constantly baiting and manipulating her, Jarod. She doesn't know what she wants to do. Just as you experienced the world with new eyes when you escaped, she too needs to be alone for a while. She needs to see the world for herself. Give her time."_

Broots too telling him to give her time...

_"Last time we spoke she wished me luck, something very not like her. I kinda figured then that it would be the last time we spoke. I don't know if it's forever, I keep imagining she and Sam are gonna show up one day to drag me back to that place. You know, Debbie doesn't even ask about her anymore. For a while it was everyday, 'Where's Miss Parker?', 'What's she doing?'. Then, suddenly, she just stopped. I think we all need time to get over the Centre."_

Jarod's eyes were slowly drifting closed when what Broots had said floated through his head.

As quickly as sleep had tried to drag him down he was wide awake and heading for the computer, his revelation fresh in his mind.

Debbie hadn't stopped asking about Parker because time had passed and she'd forgotten.

She'd "suddenly" stopped asking because Miss Parker had_ contacted_ her.

* * *

By the time Miss Parker made it out of L.A. she was hot and tired and tired of the damn traffic. She was also almost out of gas. 

It took her ten minutes to make her way to an exit ramp, and another five to find a gas station. Squealing into a free spot, and cutting off another car, earned her a profanity laden yell and some rude gestures, which she angrily smiled off. It was just her luck to find the one gas station with no credit card machine built into the pump.

After pumping her gas she headed for the small store on the other side of the lot, avoiding the cars moving around as she did so, but nearly getting clipped by a truck anyways.

Had she mentioned that she hated L.A., yet?

Inside there was a line for the cashier seven people deep so she moved through the store to find something to make coming in here worth it. Singing hamster doll? Trucker hat the said, in a cliché, "Keep on truckin'!"? Neither appealed to her and the line showed no sign of getting smaller. The back door was open and a cool breeze drifted through, enticing her to walk closer even as she attempted to fan herself with her credit card.

A loud yelp had her jumping hard enough to drop it. With a small grumble she picked it up and moved to see what the loud noise had been, forgetting her rush to get out of this hellhole and back on the road.

Just outside the door a large but surprisingly clean man stood over a cage and proceeded to use a sharp stick to poke at the poor animal within. It appeared to be a dog, a very thin dog that growled through the crisscrossing wires but still yelped in pain when the stick hit. Parker's teeth began to grind as she stepped closer to the man.

She'd always hated bullies, even if she was one.

She snatched the stick from the man with no thought and poked him in the side with it. Then she did it again and again.

"What the hell is wrong with you, lady?!" The man asked, trying to pull the object from her hands but failing. He was Caucasian, sunburned, and wore a shirt with the gas station's logo on it.

"What the hell is wrong with you, moron? Do you like how it feels? Huh? Do you?"

"No!" He exclaimed, finally pulling the stick from her hands and looking like he'd like to use it on her now.

Parker's gun was in her hand without her even thinking about it. "Open the cage." When he hesitated and froze under the deadly glare off the weapon in her hand, she cocked the gun, the sound startlingly loud in the small space behind the station. It was an action that wasn't necessary but made for a great intimidation technique. "Now."

Shaking in his boots, the man pulled open the door, sending the dog scampering out. Parker glanced at the dog, saw that the animal was scared but seemed otherwise alright, and turned back to the abuser. "Get in the cage."

"I can't fit in there."

"Make yourself fit," she said harshly, the look in her eyes making it clear she was serious. He was a large man, not just tall but also wide, and truthfully she didn't think he could fit. She didn't doubt that he would try to, however.

Surprise of surprise, he did fit. Parker locked him in there with glee and turned back to the store. Just behind her the dog sat and looked at her with unreadable eyes. Parker cocked her hip as she put her gun away and studied the animal. It was a Doberman Pinscher, a naturally thin and lethal looking animal. Thanks to under-feeding it was even skinnier than it should have been and looked almost skeletal. She felt sympathy for the animal, but wasn't sure what to do now that she'd freed it.

If it'd been a person, she'd have given them the sharpened stick and let them have a go at their abuser.

Finally, she shook her hand at the animal. "Go away. I'm done, now."

With some caution, abused animals were known to be violent, she stepped back into the station and marched towards the cashier. She gave no further thought to the animal.

"I'd like to pay for my gas now," she said as she slid her card across the counter.

The cashier, a pimple-faced teenager popping her gum, took the card and looked at it closely. "Sara Perkins? Can I see some I.D.?"

Parker arched an eyebrow coldly. "No."

The girl shrugged and ran the card anyways, and Parker prayed she never had her identity stole if this was how merchants treated it.

With that done, Parker moved to return to her car, stepping back into the muggy heat with a hiss of irritation. She didn't even pay much attention to her car until she slid into the driver's seat...

...and found a dog in her passenger seat.

She glared and bared her teeth in clear anger. "Get out of my car."

The dog lay down, big brown eyes staring at her pitifully.

"Did you hear me, Lassie? Get out!"

She even stood and walked around to open the passenger door. "Do I look like an animal person?!"

The driver of the car across from her started to say something, but went silent when Parker turned her glare onto him.

Slowly, Parker closed the door and stood staring down at the dog. "You think I need a pet? I don't have a home, dog. No yard, no kids for you to play with or you know, eat since that's what your type seems to like to do. I have no room in my life for a dog."

The people in the cars around her seemed unconcerned with her passenger.

Finally, she moved back around the car and into the driver's seat. "Look, I'll buy you a burger and take you to an animal shelter, but that's it. That's all I'm doing."

Imagine her surprise when she was halfway to Vegas and the dog was still in her car.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: I just want to say thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review my story. I really do appreciate it!

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_**Las Vegas, Nevada**_

Parker did not like Las Vegas, never had.

Part of that was because she'd never had any truly good experiences there. Whenever she happened to end up in "Sin City" she spent a good deal of her time not sinning.

In fact, last time she'd been here the only thing she'd done was sit in a motel room for a couple days with Broots. Broots had spent a chunk of that time sleeping and talking in his sleep about someone named "Puff Daddy" and "Mister Wiggles", both names that disturbed Parker for reasons she did not know.

The time before that that she'd been here hadn't been any better.

Jarod had manipulated her into being strip-searched.

By a very unattractive man.

Parker ground her teeth as she remembered that particular bit of loveliness. She turned her attention back to the dog sitting to her right. "You need a name. If you're going to ride along, which you appear to be, you need a name. I refuse to call you "dog" all the time."

For his part "Dog" just stared at her blankly.

Parker stopped at a red light and turned to stare down at the dog blithely, an evil light twinkling in her baby blues. "A name should reflect your character, don't you think? You're skinny, you look mean, and you're ugly. I think I'll call you 'Raines'."

The dog growled with displeasure.

The light turned green and Parker laughed as the car jumped into motion. Her thoughts continued to spin 'round as she contemplated where they would spend the night. "How about Lyle? You look like the type to eat someone."

Another growl of displeasure.

Parker sped past all the big casino/hotels, their security and camera systems were too good for her to fool. She could handle one or two cameras, but not several hundred. That was a feat more on Jarod's level of planning.

As much as she disliked even the idea of it, she would be staying in a motel tonight. A low-brow cheap motel that allowed evil looking dogs and self-hating former secret operatives of a foreign-national-funded centre for diabolical deeds.

The Red-Roof Inn looked good for such a situation.

The clerk inside, sleepy and underpaid, was far from helpful. He didn't know if they allowed dogs here, he didn't care, and as long as she slipped in an extra twenty, he wouldn't tell. However, add in the free breakfast buffet and Parker was happy enough.

The dog, still nameless, sniffed around the room for several minutes before claiming the one bed, a full, for himself. Parker shook her finger disapprovingly, but left him there as she slipped into the bathroom to take a nice long bath. Unfortunately the tub was actually far too short for someone of her height and she had to settle for a nice tepid shower instead.

Still, it was refreshing after a day of driving, a brief swim in salt-water, and the tension that had been riding her shoulders since she left L.A. Parker smiled as she opened the door of the bathroom, steam rolling out like fog only to dissipate in the cooler air of the main room. The dog looked up as she walked in, eyes surprisingly intelligent as it studied her.

"How about Bobby?" Parker asked as she slowly sat next to the animal on the bed. She pushed back the sleeve of her robe, a chartreuse silk creation from Paris, and laid one surprisingly gentle hand on the dog's head. She slowly stroked it, her hand moving tenderly and more than a little cautiously. She'd always wanted a dog as a child, as every child always wanted a pet. It'd never been allowed and she'd eventually grown out of the want.

There was no growl of disapproval this time. He, and Parker was assuming it was a 'he', just looked at her and tilted his head to the side just a bit. She had no idea why she chose that name, that name of all names, but she did and apparently he liked it.

"Are you going to guard me?" She asked of him, her hands cradling his long face. "Or am I going to guard you?"

It was a question that resounded in her life always.

Was she the protector or the protected?

Was she chasing or being chased?

More importantly, who was behind it all?

Parker idly rubbed her animal behind its ears, her thoughts running through possibilities quickly. The Centre was gone, as well as the Triumvirate, but many operatives of both were still running around. The "big bads" like Raines and Lyle were in prison, but it was easy to arrange things from there.

It was a mystery, she admitted to herself, and one she wasn't interested in solving. She'd done enough fact-chasing to last her a lifetime. As long as she could keep them off her back, she'd be happy.

Slowly shifting her head from side to side Parker debated whether to sleep or check her email. There were only three people who knew the address so it wasn't as if anything truly urgent was waiting for her.

On the other hand, two of the people who had that address were Angelo and Ethan, both men known for pulling "prophecies" out of nowhere.

Despite being "affordable", the motel had Wi-Fi, for which Parker was incredibly pleased. It meant she didn't have to get off the bed to get onto the internet but only had to pull the slim laptop from one of her bags at the foot of it.

Imagine her surprise when she saw four emails, three from the people who had the address, and one from Jarod.

She smirked as she debated whether to delete it without reading or to get it over with and see what the boy-genius wanted. Ultimately curiosity won out and she clicked on his email. Bobby lay down until his head rested between his front legs, looking innocent and vulnerable.

The message was short and simple.

_Where are you going?_

There was even a cute smiley face with an eyebrow quirked, definitely reflecting Jarod's mood as he wrote the email.

Parker didn't even hesitate before clicking the reply button.

_Why do you care?_

She smiled as she hit send, turning to rub Bobby's back with her foot. He stretched under her ministrations, slowly crawling up the bed until he was curled into her body. Parker lay back until she was staring at the spackled ceiling.

"So, Bobby," she said quietly as she caressed him just behind the ear, "how do you feel about Texas? I'm in the mood for roller coasters."

* * *

_**Visalia, California**_

_Why do you care?_

It was an excellent question and one that Jarod had been asking himself for many days.

After deducing that Miss Parker was in contact with Debbie and stealing the address from the girl's email account, he'd made quick work of hacking into Miss Parker's computer. She had three email addresses, almost fifty bookmarked webpages, and little to nothing else on her computer; she also clearly needed better internet security.

Jarod smirked as he sat down at his desk chair and began to type away on his keyboard, activating the virus he'd embedded in his email to Miss Parker. It was a custom creation of his, designed to trace the location of the computer his email had been accessed from.

Even if she hadn't replied, as long as she opened the email he'd have been able to find her.

Miss Parker could no more resist playing with him than he could resist baiting her.

While the tracer program was running, he quickly typed up a response.

_I always care, Miss Parker. Ethan is worried._

It took only a minute for him to get a response.

_Ethan is always worried._

He grinned and was in mid-type when his program beeped its completion. His grin became a broad and genuine smile as he read the report.

Miss Parker was in Las Vegas, one of his favorite cities in this country. He'd been there several times and had friends that lived there.

His fingers flew across the keyboard even as his mind raced to plot out his plan.

_I'm worried too, Parker._

He grabbed his knapsack and filled it with his essentials before moving to the door. Clothes, computer, Pez, and several other small objects filled the bag quickly. Jarod was at the front door before he remembered that his family slept in the house around him.

He set the bag down quietly, his head bowed as he struggled with this decision.

He'd had so little time with them but in that time this place had become home. He had responsibilities to them now, things that were expected of him. He couldn't take off on a whim anymore, not even for Miss Parker.

Jarod had to do the conscientious thing.

He left the note explaining where he'd gone and why on the door of the fridge.

Within minutes all that marked his passing was the empty bedroom and the cloud of dust from the dirt road.

* * *

Parker slept for only seven hours when she was woken up by a loud banging on the door. She swore out loud and accidentally kicked Bobby off the bed as she struggled to remove her long legs from the tangled sheets. Bobby came to his feet quickly in the dark, a menacing growl echoing in the large room. 

It took several seconds for Parker to realize that he wasn't growling at her.

She brushed her hand across the top of his head as she moved past him, her touch instantly silencing him. He remained alert, however, and stood as if ready to pounce as she moved to the door. She took the time to grab her gun from its holster on the bedside table before pulling the door open.

The little man on the other side of the door seemed shocked.

Whether it was because of the gun in his face or the beautiful woman wearing only a t-shirt and some lacey underwear, Parker couldn't tell.

"Can I help you?" She asked in her cool but clearly angry voice.

"Hi! I'm Argyle."

"Like the pattern?" Parker asked incredulously.

"Yeah! Just like that!" He grinned widely, pleased as punch even though the gun was still in his face. He held his hands up to demonstrate his lack of aggression and managed to give her more of a "puppy-dog" look than Bobby ever had.

"What do you want?"

"The J-man sent me," Argyle said as if that explained everything.

Parker, who had just been rudely woken, had not had her coffee, and was feeling a little jumpy on the trigger finger, resolved herself to the fact that she was not going to get to shoot anyone today. She pressed the safety on the gun and tossed it onto the bed, reaching for her robe as she moved back into the room. "And just who is the J-man?"

"That would be me," Jarod said as he closed the door behind him. Argyle, after getting Parker to open the door, had scrammed as the plan required and left Jarod to follow Miss Parker into her room.

She now deeply regretted having discarded her gun.

She smiled a little to herself, pleased that her back was to him so he couldn't see. "Hello, Jarod."

"Hello, Miss Parker. I've been looking for you."

She pulled her robe on and belted it before turning to her former prey. "I know. I've been busy."

"Running?"

"I prefer the term traveling," she explained with a cool smile that did not reach her eyes. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand held out until Bobby came and pressed against her body. He glared at Jarod as if he didn't like the man and Parker found herself growing even fonder of the animal.

"Nice dog," Jarod said as he moved through the room, peering into the bathroom and the closets before moving back to the window. "Are you aware you're being followed?"

"Yes, and are you aware that there are stalker-laws in this state?"

"I'm not talking about me, Miss Parker," Jarod replied stoically, before ruining the statement by grinning widely. "Though now that we're on the subject-"

"Who's following me, Jarod?" Parker smoothly shifted the conversation back on track.

Jarod moved the curtains just a bit to see outside, his eyes scanning for any possible intruders. "Old friends."

"What kind of old friends?"

"Old dangerous friends, Miss Parker."

"Do those friends have na-"

The shots slammed through the window with startling suddenness. Jarod flew back into the wall opposite, next to the door, blood staining his jacket. Parker was on her feet and at his side in a second. She covered him with her body, instinctively trying to protect him as the gunshots continued to sound outside and the bullets thudded into the area around them. It was pure luck and little else that prevented any of them from getting fatally wounded.

The sudden silence that came from the cessation of shooting made the ringing in Parker's ears even more noticeable. Her hands streaked up Jarod's shirt as she struggled to see where he was hit. He was losing a good amount of blood all over the motel floor but the wound itself didn't seem that bad.

She struggled to reassure herself and him at the same time. "It's just a flesh wound. You need stitches though."

"They were aiming for you, Parker," Jarod said through grinding teeth, his eyes clouded with pain.

"I realize that," she snapped as she grabbed one of her towels from her shower, which she'd conveniently left on the floor, and pressed it against his side. "Hold that!"

He did so and watched as Parker began to move around the room. She grabbed up the bedside phone and dialed the emergency number, demanding an ambulance and giving the address. She slammed down the phone and stared over at Jarod for several seconds.

When she began to move again it was only to throw the few things she'd removed from her luggage back into it.

Jarod didn't have to be a Pretender to know what she was doing. "Parker," he growled as he struggled to stand, pain rocketing down his body as his wound stretched.

She pressed one long-fingered hand on his shoulder and kept him down. "An ambulance is on the way, but I need to go. Let them take care of you."

"We'll run together. I can help you."

"I don't want your help, Jarod," Parker said snidely as she grabbed up her bags and headed for the door, her dog right on her heels. She paused to look back at him. "Stop following me."

Then she was gone and he was left bleeding against her motel room wall.

All in all, it hadn't gone as bad as he'd thought it would.

* * *

Her car most likely had some sort of tracer on it, but she could deal with that once she got away from the scene of the crime. She did look under the car for a bomb, however, because blowing up was not in her plans. 

She slipped into the car, throwing her luggage into the backseat, grateful that she'd left the top down last night. Bobby launched himself over the passenger door, scratching her paint job, not that she cared. They screeched out of their parking space, her hair slapping into her face sharply as she struggled to control the speeding car just enough to not hit anything or anyone.

She was a block away and gaining speed when a flash of garish color on the corner of her eye had her slamming the brakes and rolling her car up onto a sidewalk.

She narrowly missed hitting the man who'd caught her attention.

"Hey, you!" Parker shouted as she leaned over her passenger door to point at Argyle threateningly. He was already startled by almost getting hit by her car, but her yell actually made him start to shake. "Jarod's been shot. Go take care of him. Now."

Even if she hadn't been a balls-to-the-wall bitch, that authoritarian tone in her voice brooked no arguments. Argyle managed to stutter an agreement before he took off in the opposite direction of where she was headed.

Somehow making sure that Jarod had someone to take care of him eased a bit of the panic inside Miss Parker. She had more control as she reversed off the sidewalk and slipped back into traffic.

She was three miles out of Las Vegas when she realized just how cold she was even though the sun was shining bright and hot into her car.

Her laugh echoed in the wind and Bobby looked at her like she'd gone crazy.

She ran a trembling hand over his head before focusing back on the road.

"I should probably stop somewhere and put some pants on," she said to her companion as she laughed hard enough to have tears slipping from her eyes.

She wasn't in the mood to ride roller coasters anymore.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: **I know this update took a while, but it's my fault. LOL. I didn't actually write it until last week and me and my beta (the awesome Onisius) have been going back and forth over it since then. It's 5 times better than it was when I first wrote it, however, so it was all for you, my readers!

_Love to **Onisius **and her might red pen for making this chapter awesome, instead of just a filler chapter. Now, it actually has a point!

* * *

_

**Chapter Three

* * *

**

It was a cold, desolate place that Miss Parker could say without a doubt that she hated more than any other place in the world. Being there made her feel like a child, small and lost and no longer sure where she belonged or even why she was here. Not even the Centre had the ability to make her feel so insignificant to the world.

She'd left a man who seemed to care deeply about her, bleeding on the floor of a motel room. True, the wound had not seemed serious, but it had been a wound brought on by her presence in his life. She might have well shot him herself so much were her feelings of guilt.

Now, after several hours of driving she stood there, in the middle of the road, staring up into the night's sky.

There wasn't another living person for 20 miles around her and no artificial light at all, making her feel like the only person left on the world. The stars seemed so bright here, brighter than any where else she had been, that they outshone the moon. Empty desert stretched out endlessly around her, barely visible cliffs and rock faces rising in the distance.

It was isolated and infinite, and being there made everything seem inconsequential. It should've made her feel right at home, considering how often she herself had seemed inconsequential during her years at the Centre. She'd always been the one to be manipulated, to be uninformed, and to be used by the various powers of the Centre.

She'd always been playing catch up with everyone else.

Bobby whined from the passenger seat, his face pressed against the fogged up window as he tried to get to her. Miss Parker smiled slightly at the sound but continued to stare up at the crystal clear sky. Maybe if she stood here long enough the world would move on without her.

Bobby scratched at the inner door and brought Parker back to reality.

As much as she wished, the world would not move on and forget about her.

She had responsibilities.

She had grudges to settle.

She had plans to complete.

Tearing her eyes reluctantly from the beatific scenery, Parker moved to open the passenger door. The second there was an opening; Bobby shot out of it and took off for the desert, barking jubilantly as he did so. He continued to run around like that for several minutes before loping back to her side. Parker smiled at the animal and ran her hand down his neck comfortingly.

Parker slid on top of the hood of her car and quietly contemplated her next move. Up until now she'd been moving randomly, leaving small clues and trails every few weeks to keep the trail warm, but not entirely baiting anyone.

That would have to change now. Her opposition was clearly moving up their pursuit which meant she too had to tighten up her plan and precautions. It was time to make things interesting.

Parker didn't want to spare any thoughts for Jarod back in Las Vegas, but she found she couldn't help herself. She wondered what hospital he'd been taken to, or if he'd even went. She wouldn't put it past him to refuse treatment and sew himself up with his own hands.

In fact, the curiosity was so great that she couldn't help but reach for her cell phone. Calling to check on him didn't mean she cared, did it?

Parker dialed Nevada information from memory, and waited for the operator to pick up.

She wondered briefly how many 'Argyles' could be living in Las Vegas.

* * *

Jarod was sitting on an examination table in the ER when Argyle's phone rang an irritating little ditty from his coat pocket. He examined the doctor's stitching on his arm and deduced silently that he'd have done a better job. Still, between Argyle's panicky disposition and the swarming of people around him, he'd been unable to slip away quietly. 

In his old 'pretender' days, this never would have happened.

Perhaps he was going soft in his older age.

"What?" Argyle whined into the phone with his typical charm. Jarod wasn't paying much attention to the younger man but when his friend's voice suddenly became quiet and meek as he began to whisper into the phone, his attention was caught.

"How'd you get my number?"

Jarod looked up to stare across the room at the suddenly quieter yet just as jittery Argyle.

"He's doing fine. The doctor said it was just a flesh wound."

Jarod had a solid suspicion as to who was on the other end of that phone conversation, but wondered at what her motivation was for calling. Since she'd abandoned him so easily, why would she care enough to inquire about his health?

"He's being released right now," Argyle whispered as he turned to face the wall, pretending that if he couldn't see Jarod then Jarod wouldn't notice he was on the phone.

"Give me the phone, Argyle," Jarod demanded as he slid off of the bed.

Argyle ignored him. "The doctor isn't in here right now."

"Give me the phone, now, Argyle," Jarod said as he moved to stand tall and intimidating above the smaller man.

Argyle finally noticed Jarod. "Ummm..."

Jarod easily pulled the slim phone from Argyle's suddenly limp fingers. He grinned down at Argyle even as he put the phone to his ear and spoke. "Hello, Miss Parker."

"Hello, Jarod. How's the arm?" Her voice was nonchalant, but there was a tone of concern that she was unable to hide.

"It'll heal just fine, though I must admit my feelings are a bit hurt." Since Miss Parker wanted to play the conversation cool and casual, Jarod figured he was capable of doing the same.

"And why is that, Jarod?" Amusement peppered her voice but Jarod could clearly hear the note of relief.

"It's not every day I get shot and abandoned in a motel room by an old friend." Jarod struggled to keep his voice calm, but could hear a thread of hurt sliding through.

Parker laughed, but it was slightly bitter. "It's not like you wouldn't have done the same."

"I wouldn't have," Jarod vowed, his congenial attitude gone.

"Really? Because I recall a certain incident where I was shot in the back, almost died, and was told you ran like a coward."

"That was different," Jarod started only to be interrupted.

"How so?"

"You weren't supposed to even be there!" Jarod ground out through clenching teeth, his hold on the cell phone so tight that the plastic creaked ominously.

"Just as you weren't supposed to be there today, Jarod!" Parker shouted back with a conciliatory tone to her voice.

Jarod sighed and moved away from Argyle; this conversation was growing too personal for eavesdroppers. "History does seem to be repeating itself, Miss Parker."

She sighed on the other end of the phone and Jarod felt the tension leaving her body through the phone line. "Let's hope for a happy ending this time, eh?"

"That's all I ever wanted, Parker. A happy ending." Jarod said, almost in a dreamy voice, imagining the happy ending he had dreamt of his whole life.

"Then why couldn't you leave well enough alone, Jarod?" She asked with sudden anger. "Why did you follow me? I just wanted to be left alone."

Jarod was silent for several minutes before he answered. "I wasn't happy."

"Why not? You have everything you wanted, Jarod. Your family, a home, safety from the Centre. You just couldn't resist playing with me, not even when I'd left the damn table, Jarod."

Jarod nodded slowly as his thoughts slowed to a crawl. "Not everything, Parker," Jarod said softly.

Parker gasped sharply and Jarod could hear her almost drop the phone. His attention was riveted on everything he could hear through the connection. He was almost startled when she spoke quickly. "I have to go."

"Parker, wait-" The sudden click of the phone line signaled she'd ended the call.

He was so tired of not knowing what was going on.

He was also tired of her leaving their conversations just as they got interesting.

It almost seemed like karma coming back to haunt him given the way their conversations were mirroring those of their past, with her now doing the hanging-up instead of him.

Jarod turned and threw the cell phone back to Argyle. "I'm leaving."

"Where we goin'?"

"I am going to find Miss Parker. You are staying here."

Argyle frowned in disappointment. "I was thinking we could have an adventure, you know, like last time! You could be the boss, this time, though! I don't mind being the sidekick, though I do prefer it when we're partners," Argyle continued to ramble on until he realized that Jarod had tuned him out long ago.

They were standing just outside the emergency doors when Jarod stopped walking and turned to face him. "Argyle, this isn't a game this time. This is my life. It's dangerous and it's unpredictable. I can't expect you to risk your life."

Argyle was heartbreakingly earnest as he replied. "I'm just doing what you've always done for me."

Jarod smiled genuinely and clasped Argyle's shoulder. "You're a good man."

"Thanks, J-man. So I was thinking we'd take the Cadillac-"

Argyle's words suddenly cut off as Jarod initiated a nerve pinch that swiftly dragged the man into unconsciousness. Jarod gently laid Argyle on the ground, yelling for help as he did so. As the ER nurses and doctors swarmed around his friend, he made his escape.

* * *

Parker slid off the hood of her car, her phone slipping out of her fingers unnoticed. As she'd been speaking with Jarod she hadn't even noticed the slow creep of an approaching car until it was too late to escape. 

As soon as the driver removed himself from the vehicle she realized it wasn't necessary for her to escape.

"Ethan!" She yelled in a shocked tone, uncertain of how he'd found her or why.

"Parker!"

It seemed most natural for her to let him wrap his arms around her and hug her tightly. The fact that she hadn't felt this comfort for well over a year made the embrace even more poignant. Parker was shocked to find tears burning in the back of her eyes. She leaned back to run her hands over his shoulders, to assure herself of his safety and his wholeness and found that she didn't have the strength to hold those tears back.

"Hey, sis," he said with a quiet grin that mirrored her own exactly.

"Hey, bro," she replied as she wiped at the tears running down her face. "Oh, God, Ethan. What are you doing here?"

"I knew you needed me."

She couldn't deny that she needed him. He was the only family she had left, of course she needed him. The real question was did he need her? Did he need the danger and uncertainty she brought with her wherever she went?

"I-" She started to reply, to pull away from him and to sending him packing, but he was already shaking his head.

"Don't even say it. I can take care of myself, Parker. I have the Inner Sense. I can keep myself safe, and I can keep you safe too. I can help you with your plan. I'm _going_ to help you. Your plan must succeed if anyone is to be happy and truly free."

Parker wasn't shocked that he knew what she was planning, but she was a little surprised by the new strength that Ethan was demonstrating. In the time he'd been living with Jarod and his family, Ethan had become what he'd always been meant to be. He was strong and confident, able to control his abilities and to use them for good.

Their mother would be proud.

"She is, you know," Ethan said as he released his tight hold on her and moved back to stare down at her face. "She's proud of me and you."

Parker nodded and her tears finally stopped. Determination and resolve set in and she visibly steeled herself against the oncoming battles. "We have to finish her work."

Ethan nodded and entwined his fingers with hers. "She started it, you continued it, but we'll finish it."

Parker smiled. "I'm glad you're here."

Ethan pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they stared into the dark horizon. "I only wish you would accept Jarod's help, as well."

She wished she could, too.

In fact, she wasn't even sure why she couldn't. Parker only knew that in her gut, she didn't want this to be Jarod's fight. She didn't want to add to the legacy of 'Jarod versus The Centre'. This was her fight. She was not going to be the damsel in distress for Jarod to save.

This was a new chapter in their history.

This was Miss Parker versus The Centre.

Actually, rather, it was 'Miss Parker versus The Remnants of The Centre'.

Parker drew herself from her thoughts and watched as Ethan stooped down to greet her companion. She'd forgotten all about the dog at her feet.

"So, this is Bobby," Ethan said, and it was not a question.

Parker smiled and knelt down as well, watching as Bobby rose to rub himself against her side. "You know, sometimes you're creepy in all the things you can think up out of thin air."

Ethan smiled at her in humor, but his eyes were glazed over as he looked at the dog. "He feels...old. Familiar." Suddenly Ethan's eyes snapped awake and he stared over at her. "He's your protector."

"I spend most of my time protecting him, so I'm not sure how that's working out," Parker said ironically.

"No, not like that. Do you believe in reincarnation, Parker?" Ethan asked as he stood to gaze into the distance.

"No," she replied absolutely, unwilling to even go there.

Ethan smiled. "Then I won't tell you, then."

Parker was curious, but this was one thing she didn't want to know. She had enough information to process without adding another layer of weirdness to it.

"So, what's the plan, little brother?"

Ethan quirked his eyebrow in a perfect mimicry of Jarod's own mannerism. Even as Ethan spoke again, Parker wondered if he'd gotten that quirk from Jarod or if it came naturally. "I believe that's your decision."

Parker sighed heavily and opened the passenger door of her convertible. Bobby, used to the routine, jumped in and took up residence on the passenger seat. "We'll need more help."

"I have a suggestion."

"No, not him." Never Jarod.

"Then who?"

Parker suddenly grinned. "I have the perfect candidate. It's a fair bit of driving to get there, however."

"I just got my driver's license a month ago," Ethan said excitedly, the prospect of getting the speedy little car his sister owned under his control had him practically salivating.

"So, I'll be doing the driving, then," Parker muttered under her breath. "What are we going to do with your car?"

Ethan shrugged. "It's a rental."

Parker laughed as she remembered a time a few years back when she herself had gone through the wall of a building in a rental car. "So, you don't care?"

"Not really."

"Grab your stuff. We've got a long way to go."

* * *

_Blue Cove, Delaware_

For all its diabolical plotting and secret evil greeds, the Centre itself had been a majestic building. It'd stretched high into the air and overlooked a scenic view of the coastline. Even in stark daylight it had retained its air of malevolence and though quite beautiful, there had been little to no tourists hoping for a tour.

Its history had been rich in detail and stretched back almost fifty years. Fifty years of secrets and manipulation, soaked in Triumverate money and Carpathian prophecies.

Many who'd worked here and lived to reminisce about it were happy to see it destroyed.

Many who'd worked here and died here were now properly buried for the first time.

Several months after Mr. Raines and Mr. Lyle's trials had concluded, the town of Blue Cove had woken to find that in the night the large foreboding facility had been demolished.

Silently and secretly in the night, with no one the wiser.

For several weeks the national newspapers, already in frenzy over the revelations of the Centre and the subsequent trials of its founder and head lieutenant, made suppositions about how it was possible.

Where the evil building had once stood, the morning light had found only a large vacant lot, not a brick or remnant of the building's infrastructure anywhere.

Some thought it was supernatural in nature, or at the very least incredibly mysterious as all things 'Centre' seemed to be.

The most popular opinion held, however, that the Triumverate had decided once and for all to remove any trace of its presence in America. Though how they'd managed to do it so quickly and quietly was anyone's guess.

All that remained of the Centre was the paved road and a set of stairs. The road was fifteen miles long, stretching from town to the isolated location where the Centre had stood. The stairs had connected that road to the actual entrance into the building.

The state and local police force had spent several weeks keeping any overly curious thrill-seekers or reporters from trying to dig up the lot, and eventually the curiosity had slid away.

Now, months later, a stranger stood at the top of the stairs and stared down at the dirt lot.

He knew that beneath thirty feet of hard packed dirt one could find the remnants of the Centre, level after level of collapsed building creating a concrete, mortar, and stone layer cake.

Strategically placed dynamite, deep enough to not echo down to town, had proved useful.

Not quite as quietly as most assumed, the building had fallen to its death. It'd created its own grave and now all of its secrets lay there. The Centre had been a large building, its roots deep into the Earth and its branches stretching far into the distance, and after its destruction a large gap remained between the top of the rubble and the surface area of the surrounding land.

He'd had his people pour sand, dirt, and rocks into that gap until the appearance of a dirt lot was achieved. It was better to leave behind the idea that nothing remained than to leave behind a pile of rubble that was easily sifted through.

His mission accomplished, he and his people had disappeared into dawn's early light as quickly and stealthily as they'd come.

Now, he stood in this place because it was the beginning.

The beginning of the end of the Centre.

The beginning of a new era for himself and the few pieces he deemed worthy to take with him.

The mysterious figure turned and returned to his car at the bottom of the steps.

One of those pieces he deemed both worthy and needed just happened to be Miss Parker.

* * *

Review, please? 


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four

* * *

**

_Interstate 70_

_Evergreen, Colorado_

Miss Parker flew past the Utah stateline without looking back.

In fact, she flew past most of the state without even looking around.

Then again, she was known for her single-mindedness. When she set her mind to something, little to nothing would get in her way of getting it. Such had been her chase for Jarod all these years. She'd set her mind to capturing him, first because her father had told her to, and then later because he'd managed to elude her so.

It'd become very much a battle of wills between her and Jarod. The battle of minds had been what had kept her from ever capturing him.

For all her intensity and stubbornness, in sheer brainpower and cleverness Jarod would always outmatch her. It was somewhat of a sticking point in their relationship.

"I'm just saying I'd have liked to see The Western Stampede. Jarod once told me that it's one of the best rodeos you can go to in the West," Ethan said softly.

"Once you've seen one man ride a damn bull, you've seen them all. It's just the same stupidity over and over."

"Who have you seen ride a bull, Miss Parker?" Ethan asked with a small smile. "Rodeos don't really seem your type of event."

"Exactly," Miss Parker replied smartly as she peered at him over the rims of her sunglasses. "They're not, which is why I flew through that damn city without looking back."

"You didn't answer my question, when did you see someone ride a bull?"

Parker slid her sunglasses back up her nose and continued to rapidly navigate her way through the heavy traffic. "Your brother," she answered with just a touch of disdain.

"Jarod?" Ethan asked in surprise.

"Yes. It was one of his earlier pretends, just a few months after he'd escaped the Centre. There was an incident involving a rider who'd died after the rope the riders use to hold onto the bull broke mid-ride. He'd fallen and instantly broken his neck. He'd just been a kid, only eighteen, but very talented. Jarod went in and used his skills to expose what'd really happened." Miss Parker rattled off the explanation in a bored tone, clearly already tired of the conversation.

"And what'd really happened?" Ethan asked eagerly. One of his favorite pastimes was listening to stories of Jarod's past pretends. Whether it was told by Jarod or Miss Parker, the same curiosity and suspense still rose in him.

"An older veteran, been working the circuit for years, had become jealous of the boy's quickly rising star. He'd cut the rope just before the boy's ride. When the bull bucked, the rope came off and so did the he. Broke his neck when he hit the ground."

"Wow," Ethan said quietly. He turned and stared out his window, thinking deeply before deciding to say what's on his mind. "Jarod...he...he really does matter, you know. He does things that matter."

Parker nodded and concentrated on passing a slower-driving Toyota. "It took me a long time to realize that," Parker said quietly. "It took me years to realize that."

* * *

_Boulder City, Nevada_

Jarod was dreading this call, but knew he couldn't put it off for too long. As foolish as they might think this chase of his was, he still had to do it. He didn't want them to worry too much as they did so, however.

After leaving Las Vegas, he'd driven aimlessly for a while before pulling over near a small park and got out to walk. His shoulder ached and he stretched it in hopes of easing some of the tension. His thoughts spun round, from his family to Miss Parker to his past.

His duties had changed so much in the past years. It used to be that it was his duty to make sure justice was served, whenever he could. Now his duty was to make sure he was home for the holidays, to make sure that he called often enough to keep his family from worrying.

Jarod would never admit this, sometimes he missed being on the road. He missed being able to focus his mind singularly on one objective; find his family. He'd often taken the time to play with Miss Parker, to talk to Sydney, to Pretend and help others, but that had always been optional. He hadn't always done those things, and behind it all had been his singular unrelenting focus on finding his family.

Now, though, he didn't have the options anymore. Now his focus was split into several different directions and sometimes it felt like those directions were all taking little pieces of him with them.

He could only go in one direction at a time.

Jarod pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed without thinking. He was already working out what he'd say in his mind; how he'd relieve his family's worry without letting them know he'd been injured or that he didn't intend to return home anytime soon.

As always, however, the sound of his mother's voice blew any pre-scripted words from his mind.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Jarod! Oh, Jarod, we've been so worried! Where are you? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm in...umm...Nevada. I just wanted to call and let you know that I'm okay."

"Good, I'm glad you called. After you left, and then Ethan too, we thought something might-"

"Wait, Ethan left too?"

His mother paused. "Yes, we thought you knew. The morning you left, after we found your note. He read it and just started packing. Said you and Miss Parker would need his help. He said some other things, but...well, it's Ethan and they didn't really make sense."

"What else did he say, Mom?" Ethan might not make sense at the time, but eventually everything he said mattered. Jarod struggled to keep his voice calm though his mind was already thinking out the many reasons Ethan might have left.

"He was mumbling but he said something about a ghost and someone dying. Then he said the name Ben and-"

"Ben? You're absolutely certain he said Ben?"

"Yes, Jarod. It was one of the few clear things he said."

"Thanks, Mom. You've been a big help."

"Your welcome, Jarod. Now, when are you coming ho-"

Jarod was already hanging up and searching his memory for the phone number he hadn't dialed in months. He'd been too wrapped up in getting to know his family and his own past to worry about the aspects of Miss Parker's.

Jarod dialed Ben's number and listened to the ringing on the other side. The longer it took for the older man to answer the more anxious Jarod began to become.

If Miss Parker was headed for her mother's former lover then it was a good bet that whoever had shot Jarod might be waiting.

Now, with Ethan running around somewhere as well Jarod would have to tighten his hold on the situation.

He didn't know what Miss Parker was intending, didn't know who was chasing her, but it was time to find out.

Ben didn't answer the phone and Jarod hung up with a sigh.

Jarod sat down heavily on the park bench and thought. He could try calling Ethan, but there was no guarantee that Ethan remembered to carry his cell phone or that he would even answer.

Still, he had to try.

Ethan picked up almost immediately. "Hello?"

"Ethan, its Jarod. Where are you?" Jarod was relieved that Ethan had answered and knew it could be heard in his voice.

"Ummm...I can't answer that." Ethan's words were terse but he wasn't tense. Jarod would be able to tell that from his voice.

"Are you in trouble?" Jarod asked as he stood and started to pace.

"I will be if I tell you anything." Now, Ethan's tone was lending towards teasing. Jarod could hear someone, a female someone, mumbling in the background.

"Has someone taken you?" Ethan's mixed signals, his words and his tone conflicting, made Jarod unsure, a feeling he did not like.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Are they with you right now?" Jarod asked, listening intently, recognizing the sound of wind rushing over a moving car. Whoever Ethan was with was driving him somewhere.

"Yes, yes, she is. She's got killer legs, too."

Jarod sighed his relief but rolled his eyes as his brother's sense of the dramatic. Over the line he heard Miss Parker say something and smack Ethan on the head before taking the phone from him.

"Who is this?" She demanded in a bark.

"Hello, Miss Parker. Going somewhere?"

"As far away from you as I can get."

"Ouch, I'm hurt," Jarod replied mockingly. He sat down on one of the park's bench and smiled into the sunshine.

What was it about her voice that made the day just seem so much brighter and clearer?

"Can it, Jarod," Parker snarled at him, "what do you want?"

"My brother disappeared from his home just after I did and I'm bound to get a little worried," Jarod said quietly as he closed his eyes and concentrated. If he listened intently he might get some hint or clue about where they were or were driving.

"You don't need to worry. He's with me. I'll keep him safe," Parker assured him. Even as he heard the words he could just barely hear the lessening roar of wind around their car. They were slowing down, most likely getting off the highway.

"Like you kept me safe? Because I seem to recall getting shot not even a day ago while in your company?" Jarod said with a smile.

The squeal of Parker's brakes over the line made that smile even wider. Her terse voice as she slammed out of her car only made the fact that he'd succeeded in irritating her so much more amusing. "I didn't know it was my responsibility to keep you safe, Jarod."

"Responsibility is a funny thing, Miss Parker. It tends to sneak up on you."

"Is that regret I hear in your voice, Jarod? Regretting tying yourself down already? Miss the open road? Or is just that you're finally understanding, Jarod?"

Jarod's smile slipped away and he wondered how the power in this conversation had switched from him to her so quickly. "Understanding what, Miss Parker?"

"Family, Jarod. You finally understand what I've known all these years. You can't just forget them or leave them behind. They tie you down, hold you back, and load you down with duties you don't entirely want. All those times you asked my why I stayed, why I let them do what they did to me again and again...well. Now you know. Savor that feeling, Jarod."

The phone clicked off and Jarod was left sitting there, on a park in Boulder, wondering how it was she could see into him so damn clearly.

* * *

Parker threw the cell phone back to Ethan, who'd watch the exchange with eyebrows shot up into his hair. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just...I've never seen you get the better of Jarod."

Parker grinned evilly. "The times, they are a-changing, brother."

"Clearly," Ethan replied. "So, just where are we heading?"

Parker looked around the parking lot of the Cracker Barrel she'd pulled the car into. "I figure we'll get a little something to eat and continue on our way."

"And just where are we continuing to?"

"Denver."

"What's in Denver?"

"An old friend," Parker replied glibly, turning to flash her million-watt but cold-as-ice smile at Ethan. "You feel like breakfast? I feel like breakfast."

* * *

_Denver, Colorado_

The house was ordinary on the outside, and almost a copy of the other houses on the block. It was set deep in a maze of suburbs, where all the streets run circular and end up back at the starting point.

The ease with which Parker had driven the twisting streets assured Ethan that she'd known exactly where she was going. Her face was oddly tense as she made the drive, her eyes shooting to him in the passenger seat as she did so. Bobby whined from the back seat and she leaned over to pat him on the head comfortingly.

The house they pulled up to was no different from any of the others, but it felt different.

If felt different to Ethan because it felt different to her.

Ethan reached for his door handle, but Parker grabbed his arm to stop him. She opened and closed her mouth several times before speaking. "Don't-..." She breathed deeply. "Don't tell him about Jarod or about anything that happened in Vegas. Let me talk to him awhile first. Explain things."

"You want...peace for a while?" Ethan asked after he studied her face for a few minutes.

Parker nodded slowly. "Yes. Just a few hours where I'm not wondering if I'm doing the right thing or if I should call in more help or just...anything."

Ethan smiled gently. "Okay. Take your time, Parker. As much time as you need."

She eyes slid past him to the front door and a smile lit up her face. Ethan turned to watch as a man opened the door and stepped out, his hand waving in greeting. The man seemed...familiar.

Parker opened her door and waited just long enough for Bobby to jump out of the back seat before slamming it shut.

She walked up the stone pathway and grasped the stranger's hand, holding it for a few seconds and smiling warmly before letting go. "Hello, Sam."

"Hello, Miss Parker. This is a surprise. We haven't seen you for a few months. You usually call before you come for a visit," Sam said with a smile. He looked over her shoulder at the dog that was digging a large hole in his immaculate lawn and then his eyes slid to Ethan, who slowly slid from the car to stand uncomfortably beside it. Recognition flickered in Sam's eyes and he slyly asked, "And who is this?"

Parker smiled at her former colleague and gestured for Ethan to join them. "Sam, this is my brother Ethan. Ethan, this is Sam."

"Hello, Sam," Ethan said with a shy smile as he held out his hand for shaking.

"Ethan, it's nice to see you again."

"Again?"

"I don't imagine you'd recall, I only caught a glimpse of you at the time. A bit over a year ago? You were staying at Mr. Parker's home while he'd been kidnapped by the rogue Pretender Alex? Miss Parker left me to watch the property and you, to prevent Mr. Raines from recapturing you."

Ethan blinked and smiled shyly. "You seem to know a lot about the situation."

Miss Parker grinned and explained. "Sam was my man inside the Centre, always moving around and keeping an eye on things for me. He was with me most of the time when I was chasing Jarod, but he also did jobs for Raines and Lyle." Miss Parker's grin faded and she turned to glare at Ethan. "In fact, I had to pull him from Mr. Raines' service so he could baby-sit you while I went for Daddy."

Ethan's smile broadened as he recalled the memory. "I imagine she was quite angry when I snuck out past you?"

Miss Parker glared at Ethan. "Yes. Yes, _she_ was. And it didn't help that you left a half-finished note that made me think you'd been taken."

Ethan smiled sheepishly. "When a man needs to run, a man needs to run."

Sam grinned. "You two even sound like siblings." Sam stepped back and gestured to his open door. "Please, come in. I'm sure my wife Linda has some cookies somewhere and it's no trouble to make coffee."

Parker pushed Ethan ahead of her as they moved into Sam's home. "We'd love some, wouldn't we, Ethan?"

"Oh, yes, I love cookies."

* * *

Hours later, two plates of cookies and two pots of coffee fuller, Miss Parker finally dragged up the courage to pull Sam into the den for a private conversation.

She made sure he was sitting before she began to speak. "There's a problem, Sam. I'm having a problem."

Her voice had gone cold, Centre-business cold, and Sam instinctively reacted to it. He held himself more stiffly and watched her with apathetic eyes instead of the caring older brother ones that he usually had for her.

"Alright, Miss Parker. Tell me about it."

"Someone is trying to resurrect the Centre, or at least parts of it. For the past few months some of the civilian scientists that were brought in for certain projects over the years have gone missing. I don't think they're dead, I think someone is trying to resurrect one of the Centre's long-established projects."

"Which project?"

Parker shrugged and leaned forward, grasping Sam's hands. "I wish I knew. I need a favor."

"Anything for you, Miss P," Sam replied earnestly.

"I need you to get in contact with some of the other sweepers, only ones you trust. Find out if anyone else has gone missing that was connected to the Centre and didn't get put away. I don't care if they were as low on the totem pole as mail delivery person, if they're missing I wanna know about it."

"No problem, Miss Parker. I've got some lines of contact still open. Won't take long to find out," Sam replied easily, his eyes full of concern for her. "What will you be doing while I find that out?"

Parker smiled. "Traveling mostly. I have a few more people I want to get in touch with."

"If you don't mind me asking, just why do you want to know?"

Parker's smile went from grateful to shark-like. "Finishing what Jarod started, Sam. Finishing it once and for all."

* * *

Review, please.

A/N: Much thanks to my beta, Kye, for helping me through this very difficult chapter. It had to undergo three rewrites before I could post it!


	6. Chapter Five

**_Chapter Five_**

* * *

**Chicago, Illinois**

Unlike Miss Parker, Jarod didn't have the patience to drive his way across the country. Once upon a time, he had done so, he had enjoyed seeing the sights and meeting strangers. There was a certain urgency to Ben's lack of response, an instinct that was telling Jarod to waste no time in reaching the older man's residence.

Since Ethan's mumbled words to Jarod's mother had directed him to Catherine Parker's old lover, he could only assume that Ben was somehow involved. Since Miss Parker wasn't intending on willingly including Jarod in her plan, then ... he would force his way into her plan.

Whatever those plans may be.

Driving back to Las Vegas was a hassle, but it was also the closest big airport with enough flights leaving often enough that it wouldn't be too big a problem getting a flight to Maine. It took little resources to create a new identity for Jarod to use while booking himself a seat on a plane and the only hitch in his plan was the lack of a direct flight.

His layover in Chicago, though, did give him plenty of time to think. Mostly about the assumptions Parker was making about his emotions concerning his family, sore points of insight that were only just slightly off the mark.

It wasn't that he felt his family was a burden, or that he didn't appreciate the joy it was to have them in his life. He just... wasn't used to them. He'd grown up family-less, with only Centre employees to buoy his emotional needs. To have people whose ties to him were so close, blood-close, was... discomforting for him. The holidays, the birthdays, the special events, he could deal with; these were the things he'd dreamt about in his every spare moment as a child, and every waking moment as an escaped adult.

It was the everyday comfort that continued to elude him. The waking up to breakfast his mother had made, pancakes on Mondays, bacon and eggs on Fridays. It was someone mending the tears in his clothing without being asked or expecting to be thanked. It was someone buying his favorite brand of soap and leaving it in his bathroom, disposing of the near empty one without a word. It'd taken him nearly two weeks to realize that his mother had done that.

His mother, how he loved her, how he loved his entire family...

It was all just another pretend.

He couldn't be the normal brother, the normal son, they so desperately wanted him to be. He'd tried and found it didn't fit. Due to the nature of his upbringing, he would never be normal. He was fascinated by things commonplace to them, tended to obsess about the small details of childhood he'd missed. When he became fascinated by inane things to the point of exclusion of all other things, it hurt his parents. They didn't realize that he could be no other way.

The great Pretender, the man who could be anything and anyone, had finally found a situation that he couldn't adapt to.

Maybe that was why he'd started searching for Miss Parker.

She was, after all, the only person he'd never had to pretend with, that he could be himself with completely. Jarod had never realized that before recently. He hadn't been anyone but Jarod with her. Quirky, genius Jarod with serpentine moods that reared their heads at any time. Parker knew the light Jarod that delighted in Pez and children's cartoons, and Parker knew the dark Jarod that had a sense of justice a mile wide and the sense of humor to carry it out in unexpectedly appropriate ways.

After months of being 'Jarod the good son', he'd longed to be 'Parker's prey Jarod' again.

In a way, it meant that Miss Parker had been right when she'd said that he had finally learned the true meaning of family. Family was something intangible, something tied to your emotions deep inside you. You couldn't see it, couldn't touch it, but it had more control over you than anything else in the world.

"Flight 220 to Portland, Maine, is now loading first class passengers. Please have your ticket ready as you arrive at the gate. Have a nice flight."

Jarod pasted a broad smile on his face and slid the large sunglasses off his face, his eyes glinting as he strode up to the attractive stewardess near the gates. "Any chance I could get an extra bag of peanuts?"

She stuttered her way through a reply as her eyes became the size of plates and her cheeks flushed. "Y-y-y-yeah."

Jarod rarely realized the effect he had on women.

* * *

**Denver, Colorado**

"What do you mean you don't eat steak?" Parker asked incredulously as she pushed the door open. Inside a sumptuously decorated room with several vases of fresh flowers and a complimentary gift basket beckoned to her with irresistible luxury.

Ethan smiled as he set her suitcase just inside the door. "We have eaten a total of six meals together, Parker. I guess you didn't notice I never ate meat?"

Parker mock-sneered at him, her eyes shining with mirth. "That's just perfect. I've got one brother who's a cannibal and one who's a vegan. Guess that makes me the normal one."

Ethan snickered and moved to help her as she removed her lengthy overcoat. It was only fifty degrees outside, but Parker always got cold easily. Ethan knew without asking that it was because of the medication she took for her ulcer, it thinned her blood and made her more susceptible to temperature changes.

Her skin was like ice under his fingers as he set her coat aside and hugged her from behind. She allowed the demonstration of affection, and knew that it was mostly to comfort himself and not her. Ethan was too soft-hearted for her life, for her hard edges that she used with blunt force to continue on.

The fact that he was willing to follow her, rough edges and all, as she pursued her plans was more touching to her than he'd ever know.

Parker patted his hand absently and moved further into her rooms, her hands itching from the urge to go to the liquor cabinet and pour herself a scotch. Instead, she clenched them at her sides and moved to the large expanse of windows that covered an entire wall of the suite. "No matter what city I'm in, or how much it costs, I always have to have a room with a view."

Ethan didn't know where the sudden statement came from, and confusion wrinkled his brow. "Why?"

"I like looking," Parker replied simply. "Cities all look the same at night. While I was... traveling... I drove all day. The scenery was just a blur. By the time I stopped to get some sleep, it was always late at night, so all I could see from the windows was darkness. Darkness interrupted only by the distant sparkling lights of people's homes. For months, that was the only reason I stopped. In each city, just to see the lights."

Ethan still didn't quite understand what she was trying to say, but it was clear it was important to her. He moved across the distance between them slowly, his shoes scuffling on the thick carpet not quite silently. He asked softly, "What's so important about the lights?"

Parker smiled and pressed her chilled fingers against the colder glass of the window. "Do you know what I saw every time I looked out the window of my office at the Centre? Darkness. Unending darkness. The same from my bedroom at home. Everything about the Centre was always so isolated, placed far out of reach of the common man. Being here, seeing these lights..." Her voice trailed off, but she didn't need to finish her statement.

Ethan smiled and took her hand as they stood together and looked into the night. "...makes you feel less alone."

Parker nodded slowly. "Yes. Exactly."

* * *

Before Parker was even fully awake the next morning, she found the hotel phone in her hand and an order for coffee on its way up. She'd never been able to truly function without at least one cup of coffee in her body, and it was an indulgence she hadn't been able to break her ulcer-suffering self from.

Listening carefully for the room service to arrive, Parker slid from the large bed and reached for the silk robe she'd thrown over the nearby desk chair. Ethan was in the room next door, but she had no idea if he was a light or heavy sleeper.

Her plans today were meant for her and her alone, and as much as she appreciated her brother's presence, he was not going to accompany her.

Parker would like to say that choosing Denver as their first point of travel was sentimental in nature, though it was nice to see Sam again, there was another more important reason she chose Denver. There was an old enemy here who'd known more about the new force rising out of the ashes of the Centre than anyone else.

Even locked up, he'd have his fingers, the ones he had left anyways, in a lot of pies.

Less than thirty minutes after her coffee arrived, Parker slid a note under Ethan's door explaining that she'd be back in a few hours and forced herself to walk slowly and calmly to the elevator. She had a cab waiting to take her where she needed to go, prearranged and paid for that would wait for her until she was done visiting. She wouldn't be taking her car because the facility was under surveillance, both by the United States government and other more nefarious organizations. Even though she changed the plate numbers every time she crossed a Stateline, to willingly give up any information was against her nature.

Hopefully when she returned she'd have more information than when she left.

It'd taken her coffee longer to arrive at her room than the cab ride to the holding facility, though of course, getting past security took easily double the time of both. The fact that she was one of few on the approved list made the process shorter than it would be for anyone else. The government wanted to make sure that no reporters or immoral sort were accidentally granted access to the man many considered the most dangerous person in the United States.

Parker walked into the conference room with enough confidence to buoy her shock at seeing him again. No preparation could stunt her delight at seeing Raines in an orange jumpsuit handcuffed to a table.

"Orange is a good color for you, Raines. Brings out the sallow in your skin."

"Miss Parker," Raines replied with one of usual 'I know more than you do' smiles that never failed to irritate her. "Welcome to my home. You're my first visitor in over a year."

"Sorry, Daddy Dearest, I'll make an effort to visit more often," Parker replied acidly as she slid into the seat across from him. Her smile was as cold as ice as she gazed at Raines, taking note that he appeared thinner than ever before and that his oxygen tank made a soft whistling noise as he turned up the dosage. "How's prison treating you? Dropped the soap yet?"

"Parker, you know very well that I'm in permanent isolation. Other than the guards who drop off my meals, you're the first person I've seen in months." His words weren't self-deprecating, but rather matter-of-fact. His face was carefully blank as he continued to speak. "After your rather passionate testimony condemning me at the trial, I must say this is somewhat of a surprise."

Miss Parker waited patiently for him to stop wheezing his way though his explanation before replying. "Despite the circumstances, I believe we can help each other, Raines."

"I live in a windowless cell under 24 hour guard with cameras that feed directly to the Pentagon. My meals are delivered through a slot in the wall, and my only interaction is generally with my soap and my hand. In what way can you help me, Parker?" The faster he spoke, the harder it became for him to breathe, yet Parker made no move to assist him.

She shrugged. "Now you know how your 'experiments' felt." She grinned maliciously. "How _does_ it feel?" She asked smugly. "Lonely? Cold? Losing your mind a little?"

Raines sighed and his hands clenched on the table in agitation. "Why are you here?"

"Someone has been searching for me, sending low-level thugs to try and capture me. They've also been moving through the former ranks of the Centre, tying up loose ends, including destroying the main base of the Centre. There's also the problem of people who have worked for the Centre going missing, presumably taken in the same way they tried to 'take' me. I want to know who's doing it and why."

Raines' lips quirked at the corners as he leaned back in the hard metal chair. "I have no idea."

"You're lying," Parker replied immediately. "You and I both know that nothing keeps you from being in the know. Hell, for all I know, you may be the one orchestrating it all."

"I'm not." His raspy voice still had the ability to make her skin crawl, but it gave her an idea.

Parker crossed her arms smoothly, managing to look both smug and curious at the same time. "Don't forget that I have some influence here, Raines."

"What could you have that I want, Parker?" He cocked his head patronizingly as if she were a child, the effect ruined by the wracking cough that shook his body from speaking too quickly.

Parker smiled and reached into her pocket, pulling an unopened pack of cigarettes out. Raines' eyes widened. "I'm told you're not allowed to smoke in here. I know from experience that the cravings must be killing you. You're not even allowed any nicotine patches or gum."

"And?"

"And I might be persuaded," Parker started as she slowly patted the end of the cigarettes against her hand, banging all the loose tobacco to one end of the pack, before opening it with a zealous rip, "to convince the guards to look the other way for a few minutes."

"What would it take to persuade you to do so, Miss Parker?" Raines asked, emphasizing the 'Miss' as his eyes tracked the movements of her fingers as she shook out several cigarettes.

"Information, Mr. Raines. I want information." She pulled out a lighter from the same pocket she'd withdrawn the cigarettes from and held it out to him.

With a sigh, and a calculated glint to his eyes, Raines took the lighter and held it quietly. Finally, his eyes glancing at the closed door, he reached for a cigarette. With the smoke curling in aesthetically pleasing patterns in the air between them, he began to speak. "He's-"

"He?" Parker interrupted. "He who?"

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or not, Miss Parker?" Raines asked as he began to cough roughly. His hold on the cigarette was iron-clad, however.

She shrugged but remained silent.

"He's started up an old project, is what you're thinking. It would explain the missing scientists and sweepers." Parker kept her face completely blank, even as he gave her information she hadn't known. She'd known about the scientists, but not the sweepers. Raines continued to speak. "Which project he's trying to restart is relatively easy to figure out, if you take the time to think about it."

"I've taken the time to think about it and I can't figure it out," Parker pointed out.

"You're too close to the situation," Raines replied with a shrug, gazing at the half-gone cigarette in his hand with affection. "You're a fool if you think he's the one trying to kill you, however."

Parker's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "Prison really hasn't kept you from being informed."

"I have my sources," Raines replied cryptically, the statement all the creepier because of the coarseness of his voice. "You're stuck between a rock and a hard place, Miss Parker."

"I always was, Mr. Raines," she replied with mocking politeness. "No mysterious words of wisdom for me?"

Raines shrugged and gestured to the bland room he found himself entombed in. "Don't get caught."

Parker quirked her eyebrow much to Raines' amusement. He cackled for several moments before falling into a coughing fit that shook his whole body.

When he could breathe again, Parker posed her final question. "Who is 'he'?"

Raines merely gave her a blank look.

"Should've figured you were too much a coward to do the right thing for once," Parker sneered at him as she stood, moving to the door quickly.

She was through the door and on her way down the hall when she heard his voice echoing through the small gap remaining between the door and frame as it shut.

"Bobby is quite a beautiful animal, Miss Parker. You always had wanted a pet."

Parker froze; her legs locking up and refusing to let her budge any further down the hall.

She hated him, completely, and felt no remorse over that hate.

They were all but what the Centre had made of them however. He'd had no more a chance to escape that place than she had.

For all their faults, and there were many, Raines and her father had been the legacy of the Centre. Just as she was. Both nature and nurture had damned the brothers from the start, and if she wasn't careful, she would be just as damned.

Parker turned and started back to his cell, though she wasn't sure why. His words had clearly demonstrated that he knew a lot more than he was letting on, and as usual, he kept most of the truth to himself, letting slip only a few details that would send her down the right path. He was, and always would be, a bastard, right down to his dying breath.

He'd been playing this game with her and Jarod for years. He'd probably play the game until he died.

Parker was reaching for the door knob, her mind still unsure of her own intentions, when the world caught on fire.

Extreme force blew the door off its hinges, striking her and sending her flying back into the wall opposite. She could feel heat licking at her face, her body sent into extreme overload by the sensation, her mind spinning as the blow to her head sent her thoughts spiraling out of control. Her skin was crawling and her muscles ached as if she'd run a marathon...

Then it was over as quickly as it'd begun.

Miss Parker pushed the charred door off of her and stood on unsteady feet. The corridor was covered with debris and ash, and the air was uncomfortably full of smoke. Waving a hand in her face, she tried to clear it out of her eyes and failed miserably. Alarms were blaring in the building but they had nothing on the pounding in her head.

Finally, Parker felt stable enough to move and closed the few feet that separated her from the now door-less frame of Raines' cell. The smoke was clearing as the vents started to work overtime and the sprinklers rained down heavily, but the smell that lingered just inside the room was clear enough.

It was the smell of burned flesh.

Raines had finally gotten his comeuppance after all.

She didn't know whether to laugh...or, well, to just laugh.

With a scoff of disbelief, Parker slid down the filthy wall just inside the room and shook her head slowly. She seriously couldn't see a way for this situation to get any worse.

Suddenly the sound of heavy boots running towards her reached her ears and she knew, without a doubt, that the situation had just gone even further down hill.

* * *

**Lake Catherine, Maine**

It'd taken roughly five hours of flying, two hours of layover, and then another two hours of driving for Jarod to reach Ben's home, but the sight of the beautiful house, whole and complete, made it all worth it.

Jarod barely waited for the rental car to shift into park before he was out of the car, moving quickly to the front door. Ben's truck was parked in plain sight so the man should be home, if nothing had happened to him yet.

Jarod knocked on the door several times, loud thumps that echoed through the house quickly. He waited impatiently, only seconds between his knocks, before he decided to try the door and found it unlocked.

It took only seconds for Jarod to search the first floor and find no sign of the older man. He knew he wasn't doing this smartly, knew that if something truly had happened to Ben, if someone had come here and harmed him, that they could still be here and that his running around was only making him a prime target.

His shoulder twanged with pain as if to remind him that he was a very good target.

Jarod couldn't stop this panicky feeling in his stomach however. If something had happened to Ben, and if Parker and Ethan had been here when that something happened...

His stomach knotted up even more and Jarod moved to the staircase, leaping up every three steps in his rush.

The first two bedrooms were empty, perfectly immaculate in their cleanliness. The soft scent of flowers was heavy in the air and Jarod recognized it as meaning that Ben had gone to the market and bought flowers today. Ben liked to walk down to town to do so, enjoying the exercise it gave him.

Jarod felt a small hitch of hope. Maybe Ben was still at the market and that's why Jarod couldn't find him.

It was irrational hope, however, that Jarod felt, for if Ben was still at the market, why were the flowers already placed around the house?

Finally, Jarod reached the final bedroom of this floor and stepped into it quickly. His urge was to call out Ben's name but common sense kept him from doing so.

Jarod saw no one in the bedroom, or under the bed, but the bathroom held more revelations.

Jarod saw his fears realized as his eyes alit upon poor Ben as he lay on the bathroom floor.

* * *

Review, please.


	7. Chapter Six

**Recap:** Miss Parker struggled to make of herself someone her mother would be proud of, while Jarod struggled to find her. Behind the scenes a shadowy corporation born from the remnants of the Centre slowly made progress in establishing itself, bringing danger back into the lives of everyone. Specifically, Miss Parker reaches out to old friends and old enemies to attempt a pre-emptive strike against her enemies, only to have it backfire on her.

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

**Lake Catherine, Maine**

_Jarod saw his fears realized as his eyes alit upon poor Ben as he lay on the bathroom floor. _

The adrenaline of Jarod's rush across the country, not even abated during the seeming agonizingly-long plane ride, left his body in a rush of shock. His hands shook as he stood there gripping the doorframe of the bathroom as he stared at the prone figure of someone he considered a friend and more importantly, an ally.

When that prone body, supposed to be dead, suddenly moved and startled Jarod he could only gaze down in shock. "Ben?"

With a surprised smile Ben rolled over to grin up at Jarod. "Jarod! Long time, no see. While you're here could you hand me that wrench? The sink is leaking again," Ben explained as he gestured to the open cabinet door next to him. In his rush and subsequent shock Jarod had failed to notice the toolbox beside Ben.

"Uh, yeah," Jarod replied as he kneeled beside the older man, studying his face as he did so. Finding the right tool he started to hand it to Ben, before giving in to his urges and wrapping him in a tight hug. "When I walked in, I thought for a minute..." Jarod's voice trailed off but the emotions were clear in his voice.

Ben smiled slightly and pat Jarod on the shoulder. "I may be older, young man, but I'm not 'old', or anywhere near ready to depart this world. At least not yet."

"No, it's not that," Jarod replied as he leaned back, gripping Ben's arms as he continued to speak. "There's something going on, Ben. I need to find Miss Parker."

Ben sighed deeply and set the wrench aside. Grasping the counter edge tightly he pulled himself up until he stood above Jarod who remained kneeling. "She told me you'd ask that."

Jarod frowned heavily and stood. "Parker?"

"Yes Miss Parker. The last time I saw her was five months ago, Jarod. I tried to convince her to stay here but she wouldn't hear of it. She said there was something she had to do and she didn't want any of the repercussions to land here with me," Ben explained as he moved into the bedroom, his eyes sliding around the room before landing on the photo frame on the bedside table. With surprisingly spry steps Ben moved across the room and picked it up, gazing at it for a few seconds before turning and gesturing for Jarod to take it. "I knew she was planning something dangerous and that'd you'd be worried. She told me not to tell you anything."

Jarod twisted his lips in a half-smile, not surprised that she'd bidden Ben to keep quiet. "Are you going to listen to her?"

Ben smiled. "No. I'll never keep quiet when someone I love is in danger again. I learned that lesson the hard way."

Jarod smiled happily, his entire face lighting up as he realized that this might just be his "big break" in chasing Parker. He looked down at the photo in his hand and his face froze as he realized what he was staring at. At first he almost thought it was Catherine Parker, but he'd know that smile and dimple anywhere. They were rarely seen, but as a child he'd had the pleasure of witnessing them whenever Parker had smiled. More often in their adult relationship her smiles were self-deprecating or bitter, and never deep enough to reveal the small dimple in her right cheek.

Her hair was the longest he'd ever seen it in the photo, falling like a dark ink waterfall down her back. The wind was blowing some strands across her face and one hand was raised to try and push them behind her ear. She was laughing, her head turned slightly from the camera. She was sitting on a wooden pasture fence, the sun making her skin gleam gold in the photo.

Jarod had never seen her look so beautiful.

"When was this taken?" He asked as he forced his fingers to relax the death-grip they'd formed on the delicate frame.

Ben was surprised by the sudden change in conversation but flowed with it. "Just before she left. There was a fair in town and I convinced her to come with me. We drank beer and ate cotton candy and rode rides for hours. I was sad that she leaving and I asked if she'd mind a picture. She didn't, so..." His voice trailed off as the rest was understood. "Is something wrong, Jarod?"

He shook his head and forced his gaze up and met Ben's. "Did you ever feel like you're seeing someone for the first time even though you've seen them almost every day for years?"

Ben smiled at the bemused tone of Jarod's voice. "Yes, I did. Every time I saw Catherine."

Jarod didn't want to think on how the two situations mirrored one another.

* * *

**Denver, Colorado**

"Well that was one of the worst suggestions of all time."

Miss Parker grimaced into the mirror of the interrogation room and press the cut on her temple gently, trying to determine whether or not she'd need stitches. She nodded slightly to the statement the only other occupant of the room had made and decided quickly that she'd rather deal with a slight scar than the hassle of going to a hospital. "I told you to let me try beating him into answering my questions, but no, you wanted to try bribery."

She turned and glared at the attractive man on the other side of the room. He grinned at her slightly before sighing and gesturing to the chair that sat at the table in the middle of the room. "You look tired, why don't you sit down?"

"If I wanted to sit down, I'd be sitting," Parker replied matter-of-factly. She arched her eyebrow as she watched him fidget. "How long are you planning on keeping me here? Now that I don't mind the company, old friends are always joys to be around." Her voice was perfectly monotone, but through experience he knew that she was not pleased.

"Listen, Miss Parker, part of a government building blew up. The incendiary was provided by you, and even though your method of interrogation was approved by the higher-ups, there are still some questions."

Parker bit her bottom lip and slowly pushed away from the wall. Walking carefully, her right leg was heavily bruised on one side and painful to put weight on, she reached for the chair at the table and sat down. "I don't have time to sit around while your public relations department spins the story." Parker smiled softly and a little flirtatiously. "James, can't you do a little magic and get me out of here?"

Agent James Rollins smiled at the familiar expression but quickly stifled it as he remembered that his superiors were watching through the two-sided mirror on the opposite wall. "Due process can take time Miss Parker."

"What's with all this "Miss Parker" business, James?" Parker asked as she smiled broadly. She ignored the fact that the recent explosion had left her smelling like smoke and covered in soot and focused on the FBI agent who spent four months watching and protecting her during the investigation and subsequent federal trials of Raines and Lyle. "I thought we were friends," she added in a low voice, making it clear that the term 'friends' meant more than it would normally.

James stifled the grin that tugged at his lips but shook his head. "I was asked to keep you company because of our past association, however this is a professional courtesy, not a personal one."

Parker licked her lips and shrugged. "We could make it personal. How have you been?" As James tried to think of the most innocuous answer he could give, Parker was thinking about her dalliance with him and how it'd affected her at the time.

Though she'd like to imagine that she and James had had a 'relationship' that if not for her past job, and his current one, could have been taken deeper into something meaningful, she knew it wasn't true. He was definitely her physical type, a tall brunet with dark eyes and pronounced features, but personality-wise she always found him rather bland. During the few months she'd spent in a classified location waiting for her turn to testify before the grand jury, and later at the actual trials of her biological father and twin brother, she had indulged in a sexual relationship with James Rollins. He was attractive and she'd been lonely, and combined with long hours spent alone two attractive adults ended up doing what was natural.

He had no claim on her heart, however. Only two men in her life had ever truly known her heart, and one of them was dead and buried, a casualty of the Centre.

Parker wasn't oblivious enough to her own feelings to lie to herself, thus she knew that the other man who had a claim on her heart was a casualty of the Centre, also, though he was still alive and well. Perhaps not as much a casualty as he was a victim.

"I'm healthy and promoted, so you could say I'm well. I'd ask how you are," James replied slowly, before gesturing to her appearance, "but I can see for myself."

Parker smirked and shrugged. "Prison is Hell. Usually not so literally, but..." she added slyly before turning serious once more. "Were there any casualties?"

"No," he shook his head, and explained. "For some reason that part of the prison was barely staffed today. Only two guards on duty, both of whom were at their posts and far enough away to not have any injuries."

Parker's smile faded as she pondered that odd coincidence. "How convenient, don't you think?"

James's face froze as that very thought occurred to him. "Very convenient."

Parker nodded slowly and she moved her gaze from his brown eyes to her dirty hands. She picked at her nails as she tried to tactfully get to her point. "Do you remember what I told you the last time I saw you?"

James pushed away from the wall and pulled out the chair across from her, sitting down slowly before replying. "It was a week after the trials ended. You'd just finished filling out paperwork at the Bureau, and we were standing on the front steps. I asked you if you'd ever given any thought to staying D.C. With me."

Parker wouldn't look at him, couldn't look at him, because she knew that while he had no claim on her heart, that didn't mean she had none on his. The emotional turmoil she'd left him in wasn't what she wanted to relive, it was the words she'd said to him as she'd left that she wanted him to remember. "Do you remember why I told you I couldn't stay, if I even wanted to?"

His brow furrowed as he thought, his eyes glazing over as he turned his thoughts back to that moment. "I asked why you couldn't stay, now that the trials are finally over and you can start living again. I asked why couldn't start living again with me. You said..." James was trying but he really couldn't remember her words past the slight pain he'd felt as his lover made it clear she was leaving and wasn't going to look back.

"I said 'It's not over.' I hate to be the one to point this out to you and your superiors, but it's not. I knew it then, I know it now. The powers-that-be and the press may like to point fingers and choose scapegoats, but this was organized on an entirely different level than they'll ever be able to put together." Her voice sounded weary as she explained, mostly because she'd been through this hell of cover-ups before, and knew she'd go through it again.

"The Centre is destroyed, Miss Parker. Its two heaviest hitters are behind bars," James argued, crossing his arms as he studied her calm face.

"No, one of its heavy players is behind bars, the other is dead now," Parker pointed out glibly, before she continued. "Let's say there were other players, players who are starting to shake things up. Could I count on some official back-up if it comes to that?"

James's eyes widened. "If it comes to what? Are you trying to say that-"

"I'm not trying to say anything," Parker cut in quickly, flicking her eyes to the side as if to remind him that they had company. "Except that Raines' death today was not my fault and that I shouldn't be here." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and mirroring his position across from her. "When I first came here asking to see Raines, you suggested I try bribery to get him to answer my questions. Why'd you think that would work?"

James shrugged. "His lawyer regularly offers him cigarettes. Since it's been several weeks since the lawyer had been here, I thought he would be craving. I wanted to help you."

Parker smiled slightly. "It's not your fault, either. I should have realized something was up. Raines quit smoking years ago. In a way, I guess it _is_ my fault. I've...grown soft."

James grinned. "Soft is one thing you are not."

Parker's thoughts suddenly narrowed in on something he'd said. "Raines' lawyer has been visiting him here? For how long?"

"Every week, every Tuesday for the past year. We couldn't deny his lawyer access to him," James explained, startling as he realized what she was asking. "You think his lawyer helped him plan this?"

"I think maybe the investigators will want to speak with that lawyer," Parker replied noncommittally. She pursed her lips and her eyes danced with amusement. She loved it when she wasn't the one in the dark struggling to catch up.

As if cued by the conversation, the only door to the room opened suddenly and a smartly suited gentleman stepped in quietly. "Miss Parker?"

"Well, that certainly isn't_ him_," Parker quipped sardonically as she turned to the newcomer with a quirked eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

"After reviewing the circumstances," the suit glanced at James, "you're free to leave. We ask that you remain in the city, however, in case of further questions."

Parker nodded and smiled as she stood, knowing that she had absolutely no intention of doing that.

* * *

"What is she planning?" Jarod asked over coffee as he and Ben settled down at the kitchen table.

"It's complicated, Jarod," Ben started, sighing deeply again and leaning heavily onto the table. "I don't know much, just some broad strokes of the entire situation. She knew, Jarod, she always knew that it wasn't over. She knew that just because the Centre was 'dead' it wouldn't stop. The plots, and the experiments, those are perpetuated by people, not by a place. Just putting some of them behind bars wasn't going to cut it, and she knew it."

Jarod nodded slowly, focusing his eyes on the patterns in the wood table under his hands. In his grand quest to 'take down the Centre' he supposed that somewhere underneath his passionate drive and stubbornness that he'd known that. That just taking down the institution itself and the financial backers would not truly destroy the malevolent plots propagated within.

Ben continued speaking in his low but calming voice, somehow comforting Jarod despite the conversation that was occurring. "She told me that there were only certain projects that remained salvageable after the dissemination of Centre resources. It made it easier for her to set up a watch-dog like surveillance. The projects that were most likely to be restarted would be too widespread to truly be hidden."

"Which projects?" Jarod asked unsteadily as he stood to pace, his hands clenched as anger began to churn in his stomach. He should have seen this coming, he knew. Jarod had fallen into the trap of an everyday life. Willful oblivion mixed with domestic tranquility had left Miss Parker the only one preparing for the inevitable.

"She didn't tell me," Ben said slowly as he studied Jarod's face, every emotion sliding across the rugged features as clear to him as the sun in the sky. Anger, guilt, shame; emotions that any man in this situation would be feeling. "It's not your fault, Jarod."

"I'm the 'boy genius', yet I didn't see this coming," Jarod said sharply as he leaned over the sink, his stormy gaze unfocused as he gazed out over the back yard.

"You didn't want to, Jarod. You wanted it to be over. In her own way, Parker didn't want it to be over. She didn't want to be left at loose ends, nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. She returned to the only thing she knew, Jarod. Suspicions, plotting, pre-emptive strikes; she was raised at the Centre. In her mind I think she's still there. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Jarod nodded slowly and forced his volatile emotions away from the surface of his mind, struggling to achieve some sense of peace, only to settle for anticipatory calm. "She needs me," he said quietly, not so much to Ben as to himself. Turning quickly Jarod returned to the table, sitting and gazing intently at his friend. "Do you know anything else? Anything she'd let slip? Anything you...might've found out some other way?"

"Angelo was involved at one point. Not invited, but involved anyways. She was irritated with it, but I got the feeling she appreciated what he'd done nonetheless," Ben explained as he wrapped his thin fingers around the warm coffee mug Jarod had prepared for him.

"Angelo?" Jarod replied with very little surprise. "Of course he'd know something about it; he can be very uncanny about things like this." Unspoken, Jarod realized that the same thing could be said of his brother Ethan. Jarod ducked his head a bit as his thoughts wandered to his brother, a brother that had chosen to go to Miss Parker alone, knowing how worried Jarod had become. Idly, Jarod began to speak aloud as his thought slowly started to wind down the natural path. "Angelo...an old project renewed..." Jarod's eyes suddenly focused and he stood, already reaching for his jacket and the cell phone kept in the inner pocket. "I need to make a call."

Jarod hurried out the door, clearly wanting privacy, and Ben could only watch and shrug. If Jarod had more questions, then Ben would be ready. Ben had his own problems to think about in the meantime. For instance, he wasn't sure how, or even whether he should, tell Jarod that Miss Parker was most likely on her way back to Lake Catherine.

* * *

"Ethan?" Parker called as she opened his hotel door, disconcerted to find it slightly open when she arrived. She reached for her gun automatically before sighing heavily to find herself empty-handed. Even she was not allowed in Federal buildings with a weapon, at least not anymore.

"The door was open because I was expecting you, Miss Parker," Ethan said quietly from the open bathroom, ducking his head out to smile at her slightly. "Jarod calls it a 'parlor trick'."

"I call it irritating," she replied with a sneer. "You scared me."

Ethan nodded slightly, gesturing to the disposable razor in his hand and the shaving cream that covered half his face. "I'll be finished in a few minutes."

Parker smiled and brushed some soot from her singed suit lapel. "Take your time; I need to get cleaned up too."

Ethan smiled slightly at her before returning to the bathroom, his voice echoing out to her despite the quiet way he spoke. "It wasn't your fault, Miss Parker."

"I know that," she replied immediately. "Stop reading me, Ethan. I'm not feeling guilty, at least not about that." She moved to the door to stare at him balefully. "No Inner Sense, right now, okay? Just...you and me."

Ethan paused to glance at her in surprise. "It's not really something I can turn off, but...I'll give it a try."

Parker breathed deeply before she started to speak, forcing herself to say the words slowly, the better to let them sink into her own consciousness. "In all my years with the Centre, I never killed anyone. I was one of few with that distinction there, but it was a point of pride for me. Even when Tommy-" Her eyes filled suddenly and she froze in a whisper of breathlessness. She clenched her teeth to force the sudden melancholy away and started again. "Even when Tommy died, I wasn't guilty. I was angry, vengeful, but not guilty. Now, with Raines doing what he did, the only thing I feel guilty about is my own lack of guilt."

"You needn't feel guilty, Parker, it wasn't your fault," Ethan pointed out as he finished shaving and slowly wiped the small whispers of foam from his face with a hot towel.

"If I wasn't so predictable, if my enemies hadn't been able to read my intentions, Raines would still be alive. Normal people would feel guilty; all I can feel is happy that this world is rid of him," Parker replied quickly, the words flowing out of her. "What does that say about me?" She asked in a sudden quiet tone, turning her eyes to the floor. "What does your Inner Sense say that means about me?"

Ethan turned from the mirror and faced his sister, who was clearly feeling a little lost after the events of the morning. "I don't need them to tell me something I already know." He reached for her hands, pulling her to his side so that she was staring into the mirror with him. "You don't feel guilty because you know Raines has finally gotten the punishment he deserves. You don't feel guilty because Tommy loved you, and despite who killed him, he died for love. Most importantly, you don't feel guilty because you are, and always have, done what you had to. No one can find fault with you for that."

Parker nodded slowly, and made an effort to smile at him. "I'm going to take a shower and get dressed." She turned to him and placed her hand on his cheek. "Wear something comfortable. We'll be driving for a while."

She was almost out the door when Ethan called to her. "Miss Parker?"

She paused with her hand on the door knob. "Yes?"

"We can't avoid him forever."

Parker nodded and sighed. "How long do we have?"

"Another few days at the most."

Parker continued to nod and turned to face Ethan where he stood silently in the bathroom doorway. "You never call me by my name."

"I know it," he replied slowly, his eyes crinkled with amusement as he smiled at her. "Jarod didn't tell me."

"You just knew," Parker finished for him. "How long?"

"I always knew. In my head, though, it got confused. I'm sure you can understand why," he replied with a slight blush.

"Everyone got a little confused when I was little, so I became little Miss Parker." She smiled slightly as she stared into the distance, her thoughts drifting back to her childhood. "I think maybe...one day I'd like to be her again. That girl that came before Miss Parker."

Ethan smiled confidently. "You will."

"Is that a fact?" She asked with a big smile as she opened the door behind her and turned to leave.

"Call it...brother's intuition."

* * *

Jarod paced the porch heavily as he waited for his call to connect. As the ringing tone suddenly was interrupted, he rushed to fill the line before the person on the other end could get a word in. "Tell me you're not involved. Tell me that you know nothing about what is going on. I need you to tell me that. I need you to be the man I think you are."

"Jarod?"

"Sydney, please. Tell me."

* * *

Sorry for any mistakes or OOC-ness in this chapter. Please review with any critique and I will attempt to fix it.


End file.
